Fate EMIYA
by darkeldar
Summary: This is a story of a man, who more than anything else, believed in his ideal, and was betrayed by it, driving him to despair.
1. Prologue

A Hero of Justice.

All those years ago, that's what I swore I would become. Someone who can protect the weak. Someone who can save everyone from death and pain and suffering. I made that promise to my father and myself on the night that he died. I promised him that I would see his dream through to the end, because he was too old to do it himself. I studied and trained and risked my life to fulfill it.

I succeeded in a way. I saved people; hundreds of people with no material gain in sight. My only reward, the only thing I wanted, was that smile of someone whose been saved from their Fate. I know that smile all too well. It's the same smile my father wore on the day that he saved me. I've seen hundreds of faces exactly like Emiya Kiritsugu's. Yet, despite my efforts, hundreds never live to see the day their lives change for the better.

It tore at me inside. I was a hero, and yet lives slipped through my fingers as easy as water. Instances where I was unable to help soon began to outnumber those where I could, and every day I wished that I could just be a bit stronger. So I made the pact. In order to save lives that I couldn't, I made an agreement with an entity that most of humanity doesn't even know exists. With its help, my dream had come true. Suddenly I had the power to protect every person in my sight, and when I died it was with a smile. I knew that I had done my best.

I died prepared to live up to my end of the bargain and I descended into a hell of my own creation. I had always expected to be betrayed by others, it was the Fate that I couldn't avoid, but I was never prepared to have my ideal spat on again and again, until nothing but despair and hopelessness remained.

This is my story; the story of a man, who more than anything else, believed in his ideal, and was betrayed by it, driving him into despair.

**Fate/EMIYA**

* * *

Author's note: What's this? A serious Fate story by yours truly? This is a story about suffering, so get ready. Its set after a 5th Grail War of my own invention. By next chapter, astute readers will be able to determine the heroine, and flashbacks will later flesh out the Grail War itself. For the most part however, this is the story of Shirou's life as a hero. There is no trite 6th Grail War or anything like that. This story will be down to earth, subtle, and hopefully heartbreaking if I do it right. I hope you guys enjoy it, because I certainly will.


	2. Chapter 1

My eyes opened to the sunlight creeping through the broken window above me. At one time, I'd be tempted to roll over and try to block it out, but those days had long passed. With the rising sun would come the heat of the day, up in the nineties Fahrenheit even this early. It wasn't a stuffy, humid heat like some sort of south Asian jungle. This was the heat of desert, and it hit like a hammer. Without a groan or complaint, I climbed out of my sleeping bag and met the day with a smile. I'm a hero after all. People don't want to see a hero frown.

The room was nothing to speak of, and it was a far cry from the house of my father, Emiya Kiritsugu. Instead of a nice tatami floor, my sleeping bag was laid over wet concrete and broken plaster. The wallpaper was almost nonexistent, and about twenty years ago it was probably red. Maybe this was a child's room, or a couple's. I didn't know anymore. This apartment was a microcosm of this country at large, ownerless.

There was one thing I tended to do at the beginning of big days. I reached into my duffle bag that was resting on the broken counter and took out the two items that I treasure the most. The pendant went around my neck, and for a moment I clutched it with my right hand. It was still warm, and even though it was dangerous to wear a ruby red necklace openly, it was a gift from the girl who saved my life, and the woman I respect the most in this world. The second was a picture that came out of a manila folder. It was faded, and frayed at the edges but I could still see the pair clearly. Two girls, smiling mischievously at the cameraman with a high school gate as the backdrop. They had just graduated and were showing off their diplomas. One was the girl that gave me my pendant, Tohsaka Rin. The other was the girl that I used to love.

It hit me then that I may in fact still love her. I'm first to admit that I have no real concept of self, so love is hard to recognize. Still, my chest hurt a bit when I saw the way her light brown hair framed her eyes, and the smile that was so similar to that of the girl next to her. I used to think that they practiced it. They were best friends after all. I guess I did love her. When I thought about my future, after becoming a Hero of Justice the next thing I wanted to do was return to Japan and marry her. That was assuming she still loved me. There was little chance that she still cared for the man that disappeared for years at a time, even with the explanation I gave her. She was a strong willed girl, and I expected that she had already moved on entirely. I put the picture in the back pocket of my dark pants and finish getting dressed. For today, I had set out my usual attire for this line of work. A dark button down shirt with a Kevlar tactical vest, as well as an earpiece and dark sunglasses was put on with practiced efficiency. I was sure my father would be proud. I wore a utility belt as well, filled with high tensile strength wire, binoculars, flares, and a variety of blades and grenades. A pack on the back held a folded red coat that I only wear during the worst possible weather.

The next room was my armory of sorts. I opened the door that was missing a hinge and moved into what I think used to be a bathroom. The mirror was in pieces and a thick layer of grime covered everything. The faucets didn't work, but that was to be expected. Nothing worked in this city. My weapons were in the shattered bathtub. The self-loading handgun was strapped to my right leg and the assault rifle, an AKS-74 with a skeleton stock, was slung over my shoulder. Rin always told me that it wasn't fitting for a magus to use weapons like these. She always said that I should rely on my magic. Unfortunately though, my projection was less than adequate to deal with the human problems that a hero of justice faced all too often. Maybe if I could project freely, I'd be able to keep from killing people who threaten the weak. Maybe my power would be able to really save everyone, and not just those within my sight.

I smiled at myself in the broken mirror, as reassuring myself that I would reach that ever-distant dream. If you saw a picture of me in my high school days, you'd never recognize me now. My hair was losing its color and my skin had become dark, though I'm not sure if it was from this heavy sun or thaumaturgical overuse. My eyes were still mine, and so was my smile though. I had a reason to smile. Recently I had finally realized the identity of the Red Knight, that nameless Archer from so many years before. I knew I could become a Hero of Justice because, without even knowing it, I had met Heroic Spirit Emiya. I couldn't know this for sure, but when I looked into the mirror now, it was that man that looked back at me. I just had to keep going. I knew I could do it because I already had.

I heard the sounds of the morning, gunfire of all sorts. Firefights in the street were a daily occurrence here. There was no president, government or even a police station. A vicious warlord ruled and the governments of the world were content to watch on without acting. Still, a few weeks ago the United Nations ordered that aid be delivered, and today that aid was coming here.

There was a problem though. The warlord in charge of this run down city would definitely try to take the food and medicine for himself. With the arms dealers that arrived daily, he had his own personal militia. In the close confines of the city, the UN forces would be drawn into a meat grinder. I had tried to arrange a meeting with him a few days ago. I had planned to attempt to convince him that he would have a better chance at remaining in power if he treated the people well, but all I got was a savage beating from some of his men. If I hadn't reinforced my body, I might have died then and there.

Now I was left with a single option. I could trust the UN to disperse the aid well if the warlord's leadership was fractured. So, to save the innocent, two guilty men needed to meet their end. The warlord and his second in command needed to die. I had their pictures laid out on the rusted table in the kitchen. It didn't bother me. I knew all along that I wouldn't be able to get by without killing. When I'm too weak to even project ten times a day, there's no way I could survive with that alone. So every day I worked harder. I practiced my magecraft in hopes of strengthening my circuits. One day I'd be able to do it all without any deaths, but not today. I just hoped two was all it took.

I moved to the door of the apartment, and had to correct myself when I started to think of it as 'mine'. It wasn't, and I knew it. I put on a cap as I prepare to leave. People with guns on their shoulder were common, but foreigners weren't. It would be best not to get spotted until I got closer. I opened the door and walked into a rusted jungle of sweat and gunsmoke. I stepped down the hall towards the stairs as a woman dragged her child inside with a fearful look on her face. I gently nodded to her and smiled at her son with closed eyes.

"It'll be ok," I said in their language, but I wasn't sure she understood. As a Japanese man, some languages were harder to grasp than others, and that one was basically gibberish to me.

The hall on this floor hadn't been cleaned in months. Trash was starting to pile up and most doors had broken locks. Thievery was all too common, but usually not out of malice. Most people were just trying to survive. It would all be different soon. Once the hero dealt with the villains, everyone would live happily ever after.

I was down the stairs in a flash, stepping over addicts passed out and people beaten nearly to death. I stopped to patch up a man whose been stabbed. He pleaded with me to save his family as I wrapped his wound with white gauze. They'd been taken by the warlord. I smiled, and told him I would. Then he asked me who I was.

"The good guy," I said. It was best to reply that way. I never tell people why I fight. Telling them my name would only make them more suspicious of me.

The street was unpaved, and the dust swirled everywhere. I tucked my pendant under my shirt and wrapped a cloth over my mouth. I looked like the classic "Operator" that always appeared in American action movies. As I crossed the street bustling with twelve year old cars and screaming women I switched on my earpiece. It had multi-channel functionality and could tap into different networks at the same time. With this, I could simultaneously listen to the warlord's men and to the UN forces that were approaching fast.

Across the street was a bazaar. The already sweltering heat was trapped under the overhangs, creating a crowded oven that I've never been able to adapt to. I gently pushed past dozens of unemployed civilians. Thousands were homeless and many more didn't have food to eat, much less feed their children. They wore rags and desperately bartered for what they could with the scraps they scavenged in the massive junkyards that circle the city. It made me wonder how this city remained in one piece. True human nature was at work here. People, for the most part, worked together to stay alive. The warlord's men would crack down on people hoarding food, so the citizens spread it out and hid it. Some stole, some murdered and some raped, but the people here were still good, just like everywhere else. They deserved better than the hand they were dealt.

Ahead of me was the edge of the warlord's domain. There was a distinct gap between the bazaar and the chain link fence. Guards stood at one of the gaps in the wall, fingers on the triggers of their old AK model weapons. The civilians kept their distance, furtively glancing at the soldiers. They knew that the guards may open fire at any time. While I call them soldiers, the reality is far different. They wear no uniform or badge. They don't follow the rules of war, and they make this city a living hell for those that live here. Most of the crime in the city was actually caused by the warlord's guards. They did it for fun, and loved the power they held over the people.

They looked past me at first, thinking that I was one of them. The clothing did it really. Not many people wore tactical vests, so they must have thought I was one of the higher ups. It was too late when they noticed my hair. Before they could react, the first was already falling. My open palm had struck him on the point of the nose, cracking the bone and spraying blood everywhere. He fell, blinded and in pain. The second was barely able to raise his rifle when my fist hit him square in the throat. He gasped for breath that would not come, and my next punch knocked him out entirely.

I drew a single edged knife from my belt. It was certainly easier just to use weapons I had on me. Through these dark alleys lay the way to the hotel. It was probably the single nicest place in the city, and rumors had it that the warlord himself resided there. Of course, I knew better than to trust rumors. I had confirmed his presence personally. I moved at a full sprint towards the building in the distance. There were guards stationed every hundred meters or so, but I managed to avoid most of them. They weren't well trained and were more worried about their next meal than a threat to their boss.

As I got closer to the hotel, something slammed into me from the side. I was knocked from my feet and rolled to escape heavy blows that followed me. I rose with my knife in a defensive posture, ready to take on any attacker. One of the guards, barely a kid, was swinging at me with what looked like a cricket bat. He was scared, and I empathized with him. I was in a hurry though, and didn't have time to talk him down. He swung again and I ducked under it. As I got close, I stabbed my knife into his calf and slammed my fist into his groin. I've done this dozens of times. It's not crippling, won't cut an artery, and hurts like hell.

"Stay still," I said before I ran on. The alley quickly opened up to a large parking lot. In modern cities, it would probably be filled with luxury cars. Here the only things parked were wrecks. They were scattered about, some burning. The smell of petroleum was thick in the air. Still, it was open ground and I moved fast. There were four guards at the door of the hotel. One of them saw me as I approached and let loose a burst from his assault rifle. The bullets hit all around me, but none struck home. I ripped the handgun off my leg and fired accurate shots. They landed around the guards' legs, and as I expected they broke and ran. They weren't disciplined in the slightest.

I pulled a tear gas grenade from my belt as I entered the hotel. I tossed ahead of me and the soldiers playing cards at the front desk scattered like roaches threatened with Raid. I fired two bullets into the wall to convince them to remain elsewhere. A burst of fire came at me from an open door nearby I ducked behind the front counter and waited it out, clenching my teeth as the bullets hit the metal and wood shielding me. Then I stood and emptied my pistol at the doorway. The return fire ceased, but I wasn't sure if I had just scared him off or if he had run out of ammunition entirely. For a second, I was concerned about the safety of the guards, but that quickly passed. I might have been willing to save the lives of my enemies, but I wasn't stupid.

I checked my surroundings as I reloaded. The hotel was nice, nicer than I had expected. A fine rug covered the floor and the ceiling was tiled. The lights were all working and the elevator seemed to be in order as well. Only a stupid attacker would take the elevator though, and I turned left and right looking for the stairs. To the right was a marble staircase, and I made my way towards the top floor. Suddenly I was under intense fire. Someone below must have radioed upstairs. Militiamen poured fire at me from behind stone pillars above. I ducked behind a pillar of my own. The fire was too intense for me to lean out and observe, much less return it. This was bad. If I didn't move, I would be surrounded and gunned down. Even now they could be rallying below. I heard footsteps coming down towards me and instinctively raised my pistol. A militiaman nearly walked past me, and before I could react, I had unconsciously pulled the trigger twice. He cried out as the bullets tore through his chest. He coughed blood and fell, rolling down the stairs. The militiamen above opened fire again, but it was less confident now. I leaned out and emptied my pistol at them. One was shot through the leg, and nearly fell. At the last moment his comrade in arms grabbed him and pulled him to safety. Then that man was struck in the hand. His scream echoed in the narrow stairway. His fingers had basically exploded, spraying blood and bits of bone everywhere. By now the accumulated blood had begun to drip down the white marble stairs, staining it dark red and making for slippery footing.

I took my chance here. Ten feet up on the other side of the stairway was a door. Before anyone could react, I had reached it and kicked it down. Beyond lay a long hallway, carpeted with the same maroon found in the lobby below. I sprinted down the hall. Every twenty feet or so was a door of dark wood, flanked by two exquisite lamps. Ten yards ahead, one of them opened, revealing a shirtless man loading an assault rifle. Before he could even lock the magazine in I had dropped him with an elbow to the face. I didn't even break stride as I charged the other end of the hallway. The door there opened and two men rushed in. Behind them I could see another stair, my ticket to the Warlord's room. These two were ready though, guns loaded and aimed. I was faster though. I fired my pistol, dropping one with a pair of shots to the chest, and the other with a lucky hit to the temple. I cursed as I passed their bodies. I had already achieved a higher body count than what I had hoped for.

I leaped out the hallway and began sprinting up the stairway once more. My handgun was out of magazines, so I quickly holstered it and unslung my assault rifle. A door opened a few steps up and a soldier stepped out, only to get the muzzle slammed into his stomach. As he fell, I stomped down on his knee to incapacitate him. A light fixture near my head shattered as more gunfire erupts from above. One of the shards slashed my forehead as it passed, and I quickly wiped away the blood before it could blind me. It stung, but wouldn't be crippling. I fired a wide burst from the hip, striking one of the militiamen in the shoulder. As the others dove for cover, I advanced with rifle raised. They looked up to see the barrel of my assault rifle and immediately cover their heads with their hands. They were in bad shape. Most didn't even have a single spare magazine, and their arms were so thin it looked like I could snap them by squeezing too hard. The warlord here starved his own men as well as the civilians. It was sick.

"You guys keeping a family here?" I growled. One of the men, boys really, nodded and ran into a nearby room before leading out a woman and child. The militiamen looked as scared as their hostages. The child looked at me with wide eyes. He had probably never seen a foreigner before. The mother tried not to look at anyone too closely, and simply kept a firm grip on her child's hand.

"Get the hell out of here. It's not safe!" I yelled to no one in particular as I ran further up the stairs. I hoped they decided to listen to me. This life wasn't their fault. Militiamen like them are always scarred on the inside and out. They were broken, and it scared me to think that if I were born somewhere else, it could have happened to me.

I crested the top of the staircase, and immediately stumbled backwards as something struck my chest. It felt like I got hit by a steam powered piston, and I barely avoided falling back down the stairs. I clutched my chest as pain spiked through me. I had a broken rib, definitely, maybe two. The bullet that hit me was only stopped by the tactical vest I wore. With only a second to aim and with such low quality weapons, these guys were either really lucky or really good. In the five seconds it took me to reload my rifle, I'd made a decision. There was no way the personal guards of the warlord were hired guns. These guys worked with him every day, and knew exactly what kind of man they were dealing with. It left me with little choice. I switched the weapon to semi-automatic fire and spun out of cover.

There were two men using the wide double doors at the end of the hall as cover. I fired twice, but they simply ducked back and avoided the shots. I continued to shoot as I advanced. If I could keep them pinned, then I could close and kill them. I advanced, firing slowly, but enough to make them keep their heads down. I approached, and as soon as I saw the first one, I dropped him with a shot to the chest. The other reacted, but my limbs were flowing with prana. The last shot in my magazine punched through his forehead and splattered the wall with his brains. He hit the ground with a loud thump as I reloaded. I advanced carefully, panning the rifle around to search for more targets. Two more men opened fire at me, and I felt my vest struck twice more. One round glanced off my rifle and I quickly dropped it in reflex I rolled forward towards them as bullets struck all around me. I ripped the knife from my belt and threw it. One of the men cried out as it pierced his shoulder, and by then I was standing. An image formed in my head, and I concentrated my magic.

"Trace. On." I said as two blades appeared in my hands. They were opposites and twins at the same time, Kanshou and Bakuya. The favorite swords of the Red Knight had become my favorite weapons as well. They were easy to make, and easy to maintain. When I first projected them, they felt as natural as could be, like I had forged them myself. I breathed out, and the first sweep with the swords killed one of the men that shot me. The twin blades ripped across his chest in a heartbeat. The other struggled with my knife. It was protruding from his arm, but as I turned towards him, he drew a revolver and emptied it at me. Four of the shots missed, one glanced off the white sword in my left hand, and the last grazed my left thigh, drawing a spurt of blood. Bakuya punched through his ribcage in an instant. Then I breathed out and allowed the weapons to dissipate The two swords shattered like a broken window, disappearing into nothing.

The room was quiet, and I reached down to up one of the assault rifle's that was scattered across the ground. It was an AK-74, a lot like the gun I had brought with me. A bit old, but it would do. I raised my head suddenly as I heard a clatter from the right side of the room and turned to find a man pointing a gun at me with shaking hands. I calmly turned the assault rifle towards him and his shaking increased for a split second before he dropped the weapon. He crawled backwards until he ran out of room to flee, and curled into the fetal position to protect himself from me. The sight of a white haired man covered in blood must have terrified him.

"Please spare me!" He begged. "I'll give you anything you want! Money, weapons! Women?"

"I don't want any of that," I said. His face fell and his mouth opened. I didn't let him speak again. His body jerked as the heavy rounds tore through his chest and embedded themselves in the bed drawers behind him. Then he slumped to the side and gave out a final sigh. His chest pumped blood, staining the beige carpet crimson.

I quietly looked over the room. It was of a quality that even the most successful salarymen couldn't afford. Money and expensive drugs were stacked on the bed and the dresser was covered in jewelry and fine suits. It was finery that no one else in this country could even dream of. All this had been wasted on a murderer and a coward.

"You killed him!" came a shout from the bathroom. I turned quietly and immediately recognized the man that was standing in the doorway The rat-faced man before me was the second in command I had researched. He had advocated "culling" the population to keep order. I would hear none of his nonsense. I pulled the trigger twice more and nodded quietly to myself as his body fell back onto the tile floors. He was still twitching, coughing blood all over his front. I fired again, and the twitching stopped. It wasn't cruelty. Even an evil man doesn't deserve to suffer.

There was a radio on the dresser, probably used to give long ranging orders from the safety of the hotel. I dropped the rifle and began fiddling with the channels before eventually finding the one I wanted.

I cleared my throat and spoke, "Attention, your leader is dead. Lay down your weapons and return to your everyday lives. There is no reason to fight anymore." I said it all in the country's tongue. Hopefully it would discourage more resistance.

As I walked down the stairs, the militiamen that I had spared watched me go. There was no reason for them to try to avenge their boss. Maybe they would take my announcement to heart.

"What do we do now?" asked one of them. He was no more than fifteen, just a child. His eyes were like mine back then. He was empty, without a purpose in his life.

"Burn this building to the ground." I said. Nothing good could come from anything inside, not the money, not the drugs, not the weapons. "Burn it to the ground and help each other out, not as soldiers, but as people."

I didn't know if they understood, but I left without another word. My earpiece was crackling.

"Task force two," said a voice, "approaching the outskirts of the city. No hostile contact."

I smiled and broke into a run, moving as fast as my wounded body would carry me. I pumped prana into my limbs, reinforcing them as best I could. I had only projected once today, after all. In thirty minutes I managed to reach the large junkyard on the city's east side. From atop an industrial crane, I watched the armored vehicles enter the city to meet no resistance. I couldn't hear a single gunshot. As the sun reached its highest point, I smiled quietly. How many people had I saved today? A hundred? A thousand? Fifty thousand? I wasn't there yet, but I was getting close.

My name is Emiya Shirou, and today is November 8th, 2010.


	3. Chapter 2

South America; that is where I am now. A country in the north was having trouble dealing with the massive drug cartels that are working in the mountains. The military and police didn't have the firepower or the numbers to dislodge them, and the effects of the market were spreading through the entire region. This new drug they had manufactured was highly addictive and was destroying the country's livelihood and workforce. If someone didn't do something, the nation would collapse into poverty so deep it would never recover. It had fallen to me to deal with the cartel, and eliminate the manufacture and sale of this new drug. It wasn't not something I was asked to do, but something I needed to do.

* * *

I leaned over the edge of the building, watching the street below with vague disinterest before checking the watch on my right arm. It was eleven A.M, and the sun was already high in the sky. I spent the last week scouring hideouts in this town. I raided every single cartel safehouse and base of operations, looking for information. I didn't find any, but I got something better. I left every man I disabled in front of the police station, and the sheer amount had attracted the attention of some of the cartel's higher ups. One of the biggest leaders was coming here today to put his foot down. If my intel was right, he would arrive in thirty minutes. It would probably be my only chance to apprehend him.

The building I sat on laid on the main street of the town. I sat on the parapet, pressing my back against a large column that supported another decorative overhang. I looked down to my right at the compound bow that sat propped against the lip of the beige stone. I couldn't afford an rocket propelled grenade launcher, but with my projection, I would be fine. I checked my watch again. The kingpin would come down this street in a convoy soon. I was sure the sight of dozens of people clearing the street would alert me to the motorcade's presence, but it didn't hurt to be sure. My other weapons lay next to the bow. My pistol was there with four mags of ammo, and my new assault rifle next to it. It was an Israeli Galil with a skeleton stock. I blew my budget on it when I was last in Eastern Europe. That white haired arms dealer pretty much robbed me, but it was difficult enough to get a gun at all.

Today I also wore my red coat. It was a Holy Shroud, given to me by a member of the Burial Agency. While its purpose was mainly to protect me from hostile environments, it had become a symbol in the past few months. This coat spelled ruin for those that stood in its path. It had become a symbol, and I liked that. While it wasn't bulletproof, the Kevlar underneath would protect me from most small arms fire.

Something caught my eye from the street, and I looked down. A police officer with a few of his friends out to lunch, chatting pleasantly with each other. It reminded me of something unpleasant, and I scowled. The police in this area, while happy to arrest the criminals I threw at their doorstep, were also unhappy that a so-called vigilante was roaming their streets. There was an order out to arrest me on sight, and I've been in more than one scuffle with police. Thankfully, I was able to avoid using lethal force in all confrontations.

I tested the string of my bow after checking my watch again. It was almost time, and I began to control my breathing. Suddenly, my phone rang, and my concentration shattered like a sheet of glass. I pulled out my battered cell phone that was outmoded by eight years and checked the caller ID. It was an international number, one that I recognized. In a situation like this, one would not usually take a phone call, but I needed to make an exception here. I flipped it open and put it to my ear.

"Hello?" I said in Japanese. My voice was quiet. I almost didn't expect anyone to respond.

"Shirou, it's good to hear your voice," said woman that I hadn't heard from in a long time. I was surprised, she wasn't yelling at me like she did a year ago. She actually sounded happy, and surprisingly I felt the same.

"Rin," I breathed, "I'm glad you called. It's been a long time."

Tohsaka Rin and I have been friends for a long time. While it used to be "Emiya-kun" and "Tohsaka" between us, we've grown a lot closer over the years. I can safely say that I trust her with my life.

"Yeah it has been a long time you idiot!" she yelled, and I pulled the phone away from my ear quickly. That was more like the Tohsaka Rin I knew.

"How's England?" I asked, "How's teaching?"

She laughed sharply, "The weather's great! Teaching with Lord El-Melloi II while you're running around the world playing Hero is nice as well. Heck, even _he _gets to go on adventures occasionally."

I smiled at her words. "Sounds boring," I said. "Why did you call, then? Did you have nothing else to do, or are you worried about me, Rin?"

There was a long pause, and I frowned. Normally I'd expect her to call me an idiot for insinuating such a thing, but she didn't, and after a moment she spoke again.

"Yes, I am." Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible. "I want you to come back."

Rin is the only person in the world that knows everything about me. After the War, I promised to never keep secrets from her. So I told her everything; my past, my dream, my plans. At first she used call every week, but the calls came less and less often over time. This was the first time I'd spoken to her in eight months.

"Rin," I said, "You know I can't."

There was a crack in her voice, and I felt terrible all of a sudden. "Please." That was all she could say. I wanted to comfort her, but there was little that she would accept.

"Rin, I can't let these people suffer like this. I can't let them cry and wither away without their dreams seeing the light of day."

Suddenly her voice changed tone, gaining a bit more resolve. She pleaded with me, "Shirou, why can't you see past the people around you? There are people who know you, people who love you, that haven't seen you in years, and it's all because you're out helping people that mean nothing to you!"

"Rin," I replied, "If I don't help them, who will?"

I'm a lot like my father. I put the happiness of others before my own happiness, and as a result, the people closest to me suffer for it. I hate that Rin and the others can't smile, but I can't stand the idea of the masses suffering either. So I do what I can, until the day comes where I can be a true superhero and no one will have to be sad anymore.

"What about me Shirou? Where are you when I'm crying?"

"Please, Rin, you know I'll be back soon." These moments were the worst. I was never able to accurately say when I'd return home, even to visit. Work would keep me overseas for months, stretching on to years. Still, it was better to show I wanted to return home than to have her think I was lost in my ideal.

"When?" she demanded. Her voice was cold and accusing. "_She _asked about you yesterday."

I paused. It felt like I had been hit by a freight train. Rin hadn't mentioned her in our other conversations, and I was sure she had moved on. "What did you tell her?" I asked tersely. Then, with a bit of dread, "Does she feel the same way as before?"

"I told her the truth, Shirou," she replied. "You were out saving the world, and you were very happy."

"That's misleading Rin, you know I want to see her again."

I was angry now, and I seriously hoped that Rin was twisting her words. She wouldn't be so needlessly cruel to her.

It was about ten seconds before Rin responded, quiet and between obvious sniffs. She was trying not to choke up, as much good as that did her. "I know, and so does she. She still loves you Shirou. She wants you to be happy."

"I want her to be ha-" I began before I was cut off.

"Then go back to Japan, and live the rest of your life with her. Give up on your dream and live the life you really want to live. She's head over heels for you. So please, go make her happy like you want to."

I sighed heavily. It was a wonder that I could reply coherently. My limbs felt drained of energy, and my head was clouded with regret, a feeling that I had not experienced in a long time. The truth was, as much as I denied it, I did want to go home. While I was living out my dream, I missed everybody that I called friend. I got to see Rin more often, since I visited Europe quite a bit, but I hadn't seen _her_ in a few years.

"I can't yet, Rin. This life now is what I want. I need it as much as these people need me. As much as I want to go home, I can't yet. Tell her what I told you. Please help her try to understand."

It was a moment before she responded. "I can't change your mind can I? Tell me one thing then?"

"Sure," I said. I hoped I would actually be able to answer.

"Tell me where you are. When you do whatever it is you plan to do, I want to see it on the news."

"You can work a television?" I asked with a laugh. I doubt that her expertise with technology had grown at the Clock Tower. The teachers there probably couldn't operate a flashlight, much less a complex piece of machinery like a TV or stove.

She groaned and said, "Just tell me!"

"South America. You should see it soon."

She said one last thing before cutting off the call, "Don't die, Shirou."

I shut the phone with a deep breath, and dropped it into the bag below my perch. I suddenly realized how quiet it was, and I looked down. The streets below were clear. The cafes were empty and the old men and women that were gossiping the morning away had vanished. All was quite save for the chirping of birds and the rumbling of distant gas engines. I quickly dropped behind the parapet of the building and grabbed my bow.

"Trace. On." I whispered as my circuits opened. I felt the warmth fill my body, saturating the limbs that had become weak with melancholy. My face became a mask of pure will, untouched by sadness or anger. The cars were approaching from the distance. I would only have this one chance to do it. About a minute later, the first car in the convoy turned down the road and drove past my position. It was going slow, only about fifteen miles an hour. As it passed, I noticed the rest of the motorcade. There were eight cars total, all black compacts spread evenly save for the leading and trailing vehicles, which were about fifty yards ahead and behind respectively. One of the middle cars no doubt held the man I was looking for.

I saw the image in my mind as I traced, and I felt the tug on my resolve as the object formed itself in my right hand. A wave of fatigue hit me as the blade manifested itself, and as I forced a bit more prana into it, the weapon deformed. It was only a few months ago that I discovered how to create Broken Phantasms from the weapons I traced. Now I could easily compensate for the lack of prana I possessed.

I put the deformed sword onto my bowstring and drew it back like I would any other arrow. This was the easy part. I quickly aimed next to one of the middle cars, and let fly my "arrow". It flew straight and impacted the cobblestone road next to the vehicle before exploding violently. Bits of rock flew everywhere, and a great plume of dust obscured my view for an instant before the cars sped forward. The car swerved, hitting the metallic railing that lined the street and threw off the heading of the cars behind. I quickly projected another weapon and forced more prana into it before putting it to the bowstring as well. I fired this shot further towards the back of the convoy. It struck next to the rear axle of one of the black cars and the ensuing explosion flipped the vehicle entirely. It slid on its roof before crashing into the car behind it. I seriously hoped everyone was wearing their seatbelt.

I was fatigued. The strain of the projections was getting to me, but my job wasn't even half done. I dropped the bow and quickly grabbed up my other weapons before reinforcing my limbs with a short burst of power. Suited men armed with sub machine guns and a variety of pistols were beginning to climb out of the cars. They looked disorganized, but once they realized that they were only dealing with one man, their confidence would make them difficult to break.

I leapt off my perch, dropping two stories to the ground. I rolled as I landed, dispersing most of the impact. As I stood, I pulled a stun grenade off my belt and rolled it ahead of me to the feet of a large group of the men. They looked at it for a second as it skittered to a stop on the rough stone, but by then it was too late. The grenade burst and hit them all with a medium strength concussive force, as well as blinding them and rendering them deaf with the flash and crack.

Before anyone else could react, I ran around the convoy towards the other side, pulling two other grenades off of my belt. They were tear gas, a favorite of mine. I threw them in front of the nearest cars and smiled as the black suited men fell to their knees. I had undergone extensive training to resist the effects of the painful gas, so the discomfort was minimal for me. For those not used to it, its nearly suffocating, but a true non-lethal weapon. My first objective was complete, stop the convoy. My second objective was complete now as well, sow confusion. The third and fourth still needed to be accomplished, incapacitate every cartel member present, and arrest the leader.

I ran into the smoke, landing a knee into the face of a man that was scrambling for his gun. I swung my rifle off its sling to deflect the stab of a knife, and slammed the muzzle of the weapon into the man's shoulder. As he fell, I stomped down on his groin as hard as I could and then spun to whack the skeleton stock into the head of a man behind me. There were a lot of these guys, I needed to be careful. They knew I was alone, and despite the choking gas in the air, they were throwing themselves into battle without fear for their lives. Not that I would kill them if I could help it. Quickly, I threw another tear gas grenade. I needed to engulf the whole area. I moved carefully through the smoke, using the environment and my rifle to beat every opponent in my way into submission. From a distance through the smoke, I saw two men bringing their weapons to bear. Quickly, I dove into cover behind one of the black cars as they open up. The crack of their guns were obviously those of MAC-10's, fast firing but quick to run out of ammo. After less than five seconds, I heard two clicks as their bolts fall on empty chambers.

I vaulted over the car and struck the first man dead center in the chest with my rifle muzzle. I heard his sternum crack with a hideous sound, but it didn't give me pause. Before he had even doubled over in pain, I drew back and punched him in the jaw, flooring him immediately. Then I swung out my leg and hooked the ankle of the other man. As he fell, I dropped backwards onto his legs, breaking one of them in an instant. Two other men were on me before I could stand. I was thrown back by a kick to the face. I stumbled before bracing myself on a car. What was this guy, a martial artist? Before I could recover, a fist took me in the chest. The second punch I dodged, and then planted an elbow into the forehead of my attacker. Before he could recover, I had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the hood of the car hard enough to dent the black metal.

Another kick came flying towards my head, but I was ready this time. I ducked it swung out with my rifle only for it to be blocked and ripped from my hands. Another fist shot towards my head, and I blocked it with a forearm. I stepped forward heavily and threw a low punch towards the man's chest, only for him to slide his hand around my fist and latch onto my arm. He pulled me towards him, while simultaneously elbowing by ribs. Yeah, definitely a martial artist. Even if I could match him, I wasn't going to waste my time. I recoiled from the blow, but as he adjusted his grip, I broke free. I immediately went for my belt and drew my combat knife in a flash. I wasn't going to give him any time to react. Before he could even blink, I stabbed the blade straight through his arm. His eyes widened in pain as I wrenched the blade out and punched him in the throat. At this point, making sure he survived wasn't much of a priority. He had delayed me quite a bit.

The others were beginning to recover, and I realized exactly how outnumbered I was. Quickly, I reached down and pulled out my handgun. I aimed for the legs and arms, but consistently shooting such small targets is difficult. Two or three fell with chest wounds, and probably wouldn't get up again. I emptied my magazine in twenty seconds, but before I could reload, I was grabbed from behind. I struggled, leaning forward before slamming my head back to dislodge my attacker. Then I turned and planted a hard kick into the man's shin. I finished him with a punch to the solar plexus that I put my whole body into. The man was unconscious in seconds, and was lifted into the air by the hit. I didn't doubt that he would have internal damage. I find it ironic that I use the martial arts of the greatest enemy I ever faced, but bajiquan is a useful thing to know.

"Get the boss out of here!" cried one of the men. The fusillade of gunfire increased as one of the car's opened its back door and an older man fled into the city, followed by eight of his men. Twenty more were in my path now, laying down suppressing fire to slow me down. I looked down. I was out of tear gas, and the single flashbang I possessed probably wouldn't give me enough time to beat them down. Still, I couldn't shoot them. Not after I came this far. I threw the flash, and I was already on the move as it went off. They were still blinded when I closed, and the first four were down before they could even hear properly.

One man stumbled into my path, blinking heavily. My foot arced up, slamming into his groin, and before he fell, I used his body to bowl over three more. As I moved, I kicked firearms away. Still, some men got shots off. A nine millimeter round struck my vest, and another grazed my left arm. Those were the only shots that particular man loosed before my elbow broke his jaw. I kicked out, hitting a man in the kidneys hard enough to make him pass out from the pain. Then I rolled to escape more gunfire, and used the tangle of bodies to land a few more crippling blows.

Fourteen were down; the six left had recovered their guns. I rolled to my feet and charged them with only fifteen feet between us. As I reached the halfway point, the twin blades Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in my hands with a clicking noise. One step later, the bullets were heading towards me. My blades helped me block the worst of the shots, but eight rounds grazed my extremities by the time I reached the men. The twin swords flashed with all the skill of their original owners, leaving severed guns and nonlethal wounds in their wake.

Quickly, I grabbed one of the terrified men. "Stay and wait for the police or I'll hunt you down again!" I shouted in Spanish. As he began to nod furiously, I elbowed him in the nose, leaving him little choice in the matter as he passed out. Then I made my way in the direction the kingpin went. I was followed by a trail of blood from dozens of minor wounds.

The road led uphill towards a residential area. I was limping, and I could no longer keep up the projected blades. A gateway was ahead, the entrance to a villa. Then I realized how exposed I was out here. As the thought crossed my mind, a shot ran out and something small and hard pierced my Kevlar vest, lodging itself somewhere in my abdomen. I grunted in pain and fell flat on the ground, playing dead. The blood was slowly leaking around me, and I heard one of the men say he had killed me. Then I heard footsteps approaching.

I summoned all the strength I possessed as the man reached my side and knelt to examine me. I threw myself up and crushed his nose with the back of my head. I wrestled his gun and used the magazine to beat him unconscious. Then I looked over my weapon. An Israeli made mini-uzi, a fairly common gun among criminals. Before I could stop to think, I was under fire again, though less accurate this time. I aimed and fired at a shadow in the gateway and struck him twice in the chest. Then I advanced to the cover it provided. The wound in my stomach hurt horribly, and it felt like I was on fire. The blood was seeming through my clothes and even though the wound burnt, it felt like all my warmth was leaving me.

I entered the villa on shaking feet, moving past the body of the man I killed, and the gunfire came at me seconds later. A raised garden provided my cover, and I used it to shoot and kill four more of the black suited men. I was in no mood to spare them. Then my weapon ran dry.

"We know you're out," shouted an older man. "Let's just end it quickly. Come out here and let us kill you."

I laughed quietly to myself as I prepared to project again. This time, my bow appeared in my hands, and the "arrow" soon after. A hero never surrenders to the villain. Not when justice is at stake. No matter how much it hurt, I would never surrender to the likes of them. I rolled out of the cover I was behind and fired my arrow. Both the bodyguard and his boss fired at the same time. My arrow struck the bodyguard in the chest, and the explosion painted the villa in a thin film of his blood. Two of their bullets struck me. One was deflected off a bone in my shoulder and exited without causing serious damage. The other pierced my right leg and shattered the tibia.

"Trace. On." I growled through ground teeth. Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in my hands and I threw them with as much precision as I could muster. As they flew, I pushed prana into my body, reinforcing its broken structure. The twin swords flew around the kingpin as he dove for cover. One of the blades nicked his gun and knocked it away. By that time I was there.

In my wounded state, the old man put up quite a fight. His first punch hit me straight in the gut, right on the bullet wound. I coughed blood and threw a wild haymaker that he easily dodged. A knee flew up into my stomach again and I dirtied the man's suit with more of my blood. Then a punch of mine connected. A straight strike hit his right hand dead on and shattered it. Taking advantage of the situation, I twisted his other arm and quickly broke it at the elbow. From there it was easy. I pulled him into a sleeper hold and he was out in seconds.

As his unconscious body slumped to the ground, I leaned against a nearby column for support. My prana was all but gone, and my vision was fading. Then I saw lights. The police were coming, arresting the villains. I took one step out towards them before I realized that the reinforcement on my leg was gone. The pain spiked up my leg, blinding me, and I fell forward onto my face. I struggled to stand, but I felt my consciousness escaping me. The last thing I felt before passing out was the handcuffs being locked around my wrists. Then the world faded to white.

* * *

Author's Note: Shirou tries hard doesn't he? And who is this woman that Tohsaka was talking about? I'm sure my astute readers have figured out who the heroine of this unnamed route is.


	4. Chapter 3

It's Saturday. As classes ended, I got up and prepared to help Issei with the work that needed to be done before Monday. It was still early, and the sun was high in the sky. Right now, not a single cloud was in the sky, but the forecast I read during breakfast today predicted a cloudy evening. Worse, there could be storms coming later tonight.

On my way out of the classroom door, I nearly bumped into the man I was going to see. After taking a step back to avoid colliding with me, Ryuudou Issei brushed off his tan uniform jacket and smiled at me past the glasses perched on his nose.

"Emiya, just the man I was going to see," he said as he brushed a hand through his dark hair.

I leaned against a desk and placed my bag down in the aisle below. "What do you need Issei?" I said. "If you're coming straight to me, there must be a lot of work to do. Don't tell me that air conditioning unit on the roof broke again."

Issei waved me down and said, "No, nothing like that. In truth, I'm here to tell you that the work has been called off. Allow me to ex-"

Before he could finish, a brown haired girl jogged up to his side. "Ryuudou-san," she said, "I just called talked to Kuzuki-sensei on the phone. It seems that he won't be coming in for a while."

Issei pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Very well, it's as I thought. Thank you very much. You didn't need to do that for me."

I smiled at the girl and said, "Saegusa-san, what brings you to the rescue of the student council?"

She turned and smiled at me with closed eyes. "Issei-san asked me, Emiya-kun! I couldn't possibly refuse."

She ran off then, leaving the two of us smiling in the classroom doorway. Saegusa Yukika was the manager of the track team, and an all around wonderful girl. Though she has club responsibilities, she'll basically help out anyone. I've worked with her on late nights sometimes. She's an eager girl.

"Anyway Issei, you were saying?" I asked.

Issei shrugged and looked at me with an expression that spoke of fraying patience. "As you heard, Kuzuki-sensei is absent today, and he won't be coming in to help us out. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, but he never told me what we were supposed to be doing today."

I bit my lip as I thought, and then said, "Anything else I can help you with? Surely the student council has other work to do?"

"There's no heavy lifting to be done," he said, "All that's left is paperwork, and you can't exactly help me with that."

I rubbed the back of my head and said, "I guess I'm unemployed for the day."

Issei adjusted his glasses and asked, "Could you not go to your part time job?"

"No," I replied, "It's closed today. I finished preparations for the next week yesterday."

A small grin crossed Issei's face. "It seems it's your lucky day Emiya. Enjoy your afternoon. I have a lot of club forms to review."

With a wave, he went down the hall, returning in solitude to the student council room. I watched him until he disappeared from sight, and then made my way to the stairway within the mass of students that were preparing to either leave campus or go to their afternoon clubs. As I reached the first floor, where the first year classrooms were, I encountered a familiar face.

"Hey Sakura," I said to the purple haired girl. Immediately her face brightened and a wide smile appeared. She suddenly seemed filled with energy and there was a gleam in her dark eyes.

"Senpai!" she said, "Are you going home?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. The student council is out of work for me, so there's nothing else for me to do."

Then her face became even more excited, something I didn't think was possible. "Then you should come to the Archery Club and watch us practice! I'm sure Fujimura-sensei and my brother would be pleased."

I got the feeling she wanted to ask me to watch her practice for a while. I returned her smile and said, "Sure Sakura. I haven't watched the club in a long time."

"I'm glad," she said with a giggle. "I'll meet you there."

She quickly ran from the hall, dodging a few of my classmates as she ran to the Archery dojo near the school gate. I slowly followed, chatting with a few of my classmates that didn't have afternoon clubs. As we reached the yard, I bid them goodbye and made my way towards the dojo. I crossed the open expanse slowly, taking in the sun. The other students did the same, talking and laughing in pairs as they walked.

I reached the dojo after a group of first years that I didn't know, but before I entered, something near the gate caught my eye. Matou Shinji, a good friend of mine, was in a heated conversation with a feminine figure. That Shinji, I thought. It's true that Shinji is a narcissist with a massive ego, but I can't help but think there is a good guy hidden somewhere inside of him. I looked past him, trying to get a clear view of the woman, and my breath caught in my throat.

Across from Shinji, with a frown on her normally stoic face, stood Tohsaka Rin, the resident "Ms. Perfect" of Homurahara High School. She was a girl that the majority of the school looked up to, and most guys tended to give her space. Right now, Shinji was on the receiving end of one of her legendary dressing downs. I actually felt sorry for him as I saw him recoil back. Sweat was pouring down his face and it looked like his ego might have taken a massive hit. He turned with a scowl and said his last words to Tohsaka before marching towards me. The entire time, she didn't move a step, and only relaxed once Shinji had wordlessly passed me to enter the dojo.

I didn't really know what to think. Shinji would definitely be irritable for a while, and it was probably a good thing I was coming to watch today. If he got angry and caused a scene, it would be trouble. I looked back at the gate, realizing with a bit of embarrassment that it was to catch a glimpse of Tohsaka before she left. I recoiled when our eyes locked. She hadn't turned to walk away, and for a moment we stared at each other. Her gaze wasn't filled with malice or anything really. Her face was calm and even. It was the face of the Tohsaka Rin that I admired. Right before she left, a small smile crossed her face, and suddenly a thin, but strong arm wrapped around my neck, dragging me to the right.

"Hey Emiya," said a familiar voice, "What are you doing?"

I gently pried the arm off and turned to face my 'attacker'. "Nothing really, Mitsuzuri," I said. She smiled at me with her trademark grin and I couldn't help but return it.

Then her eyes thinned and she leaned in close, whispering like a secret agent out of a movie. "Are you sure you weren't staring at Tohsaka? Do you have a crush on her? Wouldn't that be scandalous?"

I felt my ears turn a little red and looked at the ground as I said, "Do you have to tease me Mitsuzuri? It's not fair when I can't give you anything back."

She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. "What makes you think that you can't tease me back? It's not like I'm some anime tsundere, Emiya. I can take it just as well as I can dish it out."

"But how am I supposed to tease you? There's no way I can fluster you without making you angry."

She smiled and moved past me to the dojo door. "I guess you just aren't up to par Emiya."

"I guess I could touch on the difference in our archery skills, or your occasional bad joke."

Her eyes closed in a mask of false anger, and she said, "Now now, Emiya. Don't make me challenge you to another match."

She opened the door and turned to close it after she entered, but was surprised when I followed her through. That was a good look on her face. I flustered her without even trying, but her mask-like smile quickly returned.

"Oh, I may have been wrong Emiya. Maybe you came to see your precious underclassman, Sakura."

Now I could get her, I thought. With ease that came from years of verbal sparring, I said, "Mitsuzuri, what makes you think I didn't come here to watch you? I can't have the club run by someone who can't teach."

If that got her, I couldn't tell, because she laughed gently. It seemed like that was the ending buzzer for our match, and when she spoke again her voice didn't have the same tone as before. "I'm glad you came, Emiya. It's been a long time since you attended. Did you tell Sakura and Fujimura-sensei?"

I nodded and said, "Sakura convinced me to come in the first place. I don't think Fuji-nee knows yet. She will probably be mad that I didn't tell her."

Mitsuzuri laughed and together we walked into the dojo proper. There we found Fuji-nee trying to balance an unstrung bow on her forehead, only for it to fall to the ground with a clatter. I winced. Most of our bows were wood, and if they broke, it would cost a lot to replace. Our club didn't exactly have good funding, so we needed to be careful. I generally fixed up the dojo every once in a while. We watched Fuji-nee for a bit, and then Mitsuzuri whispered to me that she was going to change, and disappeared to the dressing room. Shinji was at the far end of the range, sulking even though he was surrounded by a mass of attractive first-year girls. Tohsaka must have been really cruel to him.

"Shirou!" cheered Fuji-nee. The hyperactive teacher-advisor to the Archery club charged towards me with a smile on her face. "You should have told me you were coming! I would have made you cook!"

"I actually found out a few minutes ago that I wouldn't be able to work. Sakura convinced me to come and watch."

Fuji-nee puffed out her cheeks and said, "Next time cook as a precaution! That way you can be prepared."

I smiled and waved her off before taking a seat near the range to watch. After a moment, Mitsuzuri came by all geared up, holding her bow in her right hand. "Emiya," she said, "Feel free to give instruction to the underclassmen. Heck, give instruction to anyone. You're a better archer than anyone here."

"I couldn't impose like that Mitsuzuri," I replied. "I'm not even in the club anymore."

Her face fell a bit, almost out of disappointment. "Yeah, but we wish you were. Even I'll admit you are the best, Emiya."

I leaned back in the chair. "Mitsuzuri, you know I was never good at instruction anyway. The techniques I used and the ones you teach now are incompatible," I said in a neutral tone.

"I suppose you're right," she replied. "Still, I'm glad you came. Enjoy!"

The last word was extended with a load of faked cuteness, and came with an over-exaggerated wink. Then she moved to her spot on the range and began to practice. I watched the club for a while. Fuji-nee naturally fooled around, leaving the majority of the work to Mitsuzuri and the senior members of the club. My eyes slowly passed over the first years. Many of them had just barely learned to use their bows and their movements were slow and awkward. One boy in front of me struggled with his draw. Quietly, I stood and adjusted his arms.

"It's just a single motion," I said. "Breathe deeply, pull back and shoot."

He tugged on the string, but even with the effort he gave, he couldn't pull it back. He turned his sweaty face to me with a look of frustration and helplessness.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Everyone gets it in time. You just need to work on your upper body strength."

The boy nodded and thanked me, and I stepped back. From across the dojo, I caught Mitsuzuri staring at me with a small smile on her face. I just couldn't help it. When somebody right in front of me needed instruction, I sprang into action without even thinking. This would certainly have consequences. Mitsuzuri would probably try and harass me into rejoining the club.

"Shirou! I'm going out for a bit!" said Fuji-nee. The hyperactive teacher quickly left the dojo. She probably had papers that she hadn't yet graded. It was only when she was halfway out the door that I noticed in annoyance how she had told me instead of any member of the club. Was she in on Mitsuzuri's schemes as well?

Fuji-nee had only been gone for a few minutes when trouble began to brew. Shinji, having sulked all practice, finally blew up in the face of a first year that dropped his bow on the ground. The relative silence of the dojo was shattered as he screamed in the boy's face. "Hey moron! You should be more careful next time! Do you know how much bows cost? Did you even buy that one yourself? I swear, all you upstart fucks have no clue what you're doing!"

I was on my feet and ready to intervene but Mitsuzuri was there first. "Matou," she said. "I don't recall you being in charge of this club. Leave any reprimands to me."

The blue haired boy pinched his nose and groaned. "Just what I needed, you butting into my business. Get out of my way so I can teach that boy a lesson!"

I gritted my teeth as I helped the first year to his feet. He seemed pretty frightened, so I thumped his back and gave him a small smirk. Then I stepped past him, almost side by side with Mitsuzuri.

She scowled at Shinji, and her eyebrows were contracted angrily. She looked about ready to slap him, and I feared for Shinji if she decided to. "Listen Matou, you have no right to threaten an underclassman, no matter how badly he screws up. It was an accident anyway, so you can leave him alone."

Shinji bared his teeth and looked past Mitsuzuri at me. "Emiya, are you going to let this stand? I thought you were better than this."

I shook my head and said with an even tone, "Sorry Shinji. Mitsuzuri's right. You're about to cross a line."

Shinji snapped. "Fuck both of you! This is pathe-" His voice was cut off as Mitsuzuri's open palm slapped across his right cheek, and he stumbled back clutching his face. I tensed. I didn't know if he would try to hit Mitsuzuri back, but I certainly wasn't going to let him. On second thought, I was more afraid of Mitsuzuri continuing to hit him. I gently put a hand on her shoulder and her head whipped towards me. After a split second, the aggression on her face disappeared and she quietly exhaled. I nodded silently to her, but when I turned back to Shinji, my eyes had turned back to steel.

"Fuck this, I'm out of here," said Shinji. He moved to leave the dojo, and shouted back, "Hey _Captain, _don't think for a second I'll forget this!" With that, he stormed out, slamming the sliding door behind him as he went, and leaving a trail of frightened first year girls behind.

The dojo was silent for a few minutes before Mitsuzuri said, "Alright everybody, back to practice. That's practically normal for him." She quickly turned to the boy that Shinji had shouted at and said, "Don't trouble yourself. He's just bitter 'cause he got rejected by a girl he liked."

"T-thanks Captain," muttered the boy with a bow. "I really appreciate it."

I patted him on the back and said, "The Captain is like a big sister. She'll stand up to troublesome people for you."

With a nod, the boy returned to shooting, and I made to go back to my seat at the other end of the dojo when a hand gripped my elbow like a vice and I was dragged backwards towards the exit. I spun on my heel as Mitsuzuri let go of my arm. We left the dojo and stood in the shade of the building, quietly breathing in the warm afternoon air.

"I appreciate it Emiya," she said. She was leaning against the wall, staring up at the sky with crossed arms and an expression that was just barely hiding her agitation.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She closed her eyes and breathed in quickly through her nose with a satisfied look on her face. "You backed me up. I can't say I didn't expect you to, but you certainly weren't obligated to help me out."

"Shinji was out of line," I said matter-of-factly. "Even if you had ignored him, I would have said something."

"Still, with just me against him it would have been more trouble. I owe you."

"Not at all," I said, "Just glad to help."

She hit my arm playfully and then said with an oddly serious expression, "No, really. Let me treat you to dinner or something. Besides, we haven't really spent time together in years."

I was taken aback. Yeah, Mitsuzuri and I were friends, but it was true that we hadn't actually hung out in a year or two. I'll admit that it was mainly due to me feeling awkward around her after leaving the club. After a moment, I nodded. "Sure. Is right after practice ok?"

"Yeah," said Mitsuzuri as she moved past me to reenter the dojo. "Come on, we've been gone too long."

Practice continued, and as the day winded down I told Sakura my plans for the evening. She assured me that she would take care of the dinner for the evening. Fuji-nee wasn't exactly happy, but at least she would have Sakura to cook for her. As the sun began to go down, the club members left, and only Mitsuzuri and I remained to clean up.

She groaned as she reached down to pick up a bow and said, "They should be more careful with their equipment," as she unstrung it. She silently put it on the bow rack at the back of the dojo and went to get changed. After a moment she returned in her school clothes, bag slung across her shoulder.

"Ready?" she asked, and I nodded. The two of us left the school as the sun fell low in the sky. In an hour it would be dark. The walk to the restaurant was quiet. Neither of us spoke a word. I suppose that Mitsuzuri was taking in the scenery, but I was apprehensive. This was the first time I had gone out to eat with a female classmate alone in a long time. If anyone saw us, there could be massive misunderstandings.

"What's the matter Emiya?" asked Mitsuzuri as we arrived at the restaurant. It was a small establishment that served a variety of Japanese foods. I doubted that it was very cheap. Mitsuzuri must have been serious.

"Nothing," I said hurriedly as I opened the door for her. "Have you been here before?"

As we were led to a table, Mitsuzuri said, "Yeah. They always have something good here, but for a master cook like you it may be a bit disappointing. Go ahead though, eat whatever you want. I'm buying."

"I'm still not really ok with that Mitsuzuri," I said. "I didn't do anything. I can't accept a free meal."

She frowned and chewed on the end of one of the chopsticks that was placed on the table. While looking away from me she said, "Emiya, can't you be a little more thoughtful and accept a gift when it's given?"

Oh crap, I must have made her mad. Worse, I might have actually hurt her feelings. Quickly, I said, "Ok, Mitsuzuri. I'll accept." I smiled at her to show I was serious. She seemed to accept that, and I was put at ease.

We chatted pleasantly until our food arrived. I had ordered a beef bowl and quickly dug in once it was placed in front of me. Mitsuzuri ordered fried noodles for herself and gently breathed in the scent before she began to eat. After a moment, she looked at me through the steam rising from her plate and asked a particularly embarrassing question.

"So, have you and Sakura hit second base yet?" she said with thin eyes and an even thinner smile.

I nearly sprayed the table with the contents of my mouth and sputtered a bit as I tried to get the food down without choking. My face was probably turning red, and Mitsuzuri was eating it up. The gleam in her eyes was frightening. As I began to calm down, she said with a bit of a mocking tone, "Easy there, champ. I thought I was going to have to resuscitate you."

Food cleared from my throat, I breathed in deeply and said, "Mitsuzuri, you shouldn't joke about that. Sakura's my underclassman. I couldn't take advantage of her like that."

Mitsuzuri rested her forehead in her palm, as if there was something she knew and I didn't. When she looked back at me, she was back to wearing that mischievous look. "Oh. If it isn't Sakura, who is it? Maybe you have your eyes set on someone out of your reach? Tohsaka-san maybe?"

My face flushed. Steam was probably rising from my ears. Was I so obvious in my admiration for Tohsaka?

She continued, "Oh, maybe I hit home there!" She giggled and then said, "Or maybe you have a different objective? Could it be Taiga? Do you have a preference for older women?"

"No," I said immediately, "Taiga's like a mother to me, well more like a big sister, well. . ."

I trailed off as I realized that Taiga is really more like a child that I needed to take care of. "Anyways, Mitsuzuri, you're wrong. I'm not attracted to Taiga, and I don't have a particular preference for older women. Why are you so interested in my love life anyway?"

She entwined her fingers like an overacting villain in a movie and said, "I need to watch out for you, Emiya. I don't want you to be careless and end up alone. Sometime, you should hit the town with me."

"Why would that make a difference?" I asked her.

She shook her head as if she was dealing with a child. "Emiya, Emiya, Emiya," she repeated slowly. "You don't understand girls at all! When a guy is out alone or with a group of his friends, the girls around automatically think they're there to pick them up! Now, if you went out with me, they'd feel secure. Some might even think you're more desirable. Women are like that."

"Mitsuzuri," I said through rising uneasiness, "what are you saying?"

She leaned over the table and patted my shoulder. "Emiya, I'm saying I could be your wingman. Your success rate would skyrocket."

"I don't think that's necessary, Mitsuzuri," I replied. "I'm happy you offered, but I'm not exactly looking to pick up women on my weekends anyway."

"Fine," she said, looking a little disappointed, "suit yourself."

Our dinner continued with little conversation, and when the check came I allowed Mitsuzuri to pay it. She seemed relieved that I didn't protest, and we left the restaurant together.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" I asked her, "its dark out."

She smiled as she looked down at her feet. It was different than her usual. This smile was soft and unusually feminine for her and it appealed to me in a way I couldn't really recognize. "It's ok Emiya. I'll be fine. I'm glad you asked though."

"If you need anything, you know I can help you," I said.

She cocked her head at me. "Where's this coming from?" She grinned playfully and punched my shoulder hard enough for it to hurt. "We're bros; we always look out for each other. See you around!"

With that she turned and ran down the street, clutching her bag with her right arm. Then I suddenly realized the lack of weight on my back. Damn, I must have left my bag at school. Quickly, I began jogging. I might need to jump the fence if it was locked. As I ran, I began to feel lightheaded. Something was moving inside of me, and I began to hear voices whispering through the air, but comprehension was beyond me. The world began fading away, colors gradually became lighter, then. . .

. . . I awoke.

* * *

Hopefully you can actually see this chapter; the website has been horrible lately.


	5. Chapter 4

This was hell. When I surfaced into the medication blurred haze that was my consciousness, that was my first thought. Though the fluorescent lights in the concrete ceiling above me were bright, I continued to drift in and out of a fitfull sleep. The moans and shouts around me seemed to be a part of the shifting dream, rather than the dying breaths and curses of a damned population. As though my body wasn't my own, I raised my head to look around. My clothing was gone, and in its place was a frayed hospital gown. It looked like it hadn't been washed after the last five patients had worn it, and was hardened by blood and sweat. It, the bed, and the rest of the room were also covered in a thin film of grime, like a fast food restaurant at the end of a long day and night. Even with a clouded mind, I knew this wasn't a place I wanted to be for long, and I struggled to sit up, only to feel resistance hold back my arms and legs. I was strapped down, and a pair of rusted handcuffs kept my right arm firmly secured to the equally rusted cot.

I blinked at the light, which was suddenly burning into my eyes, and turned my head to block some of it out. I could already tell my lucidity was returning, and sensitivity was beginning to return to my body. The first sensation that reached my neurons was pain. Horrible, jagged pain tore through my body from dozens of locations. Even though I could see it pushing up the sheets, it felt like my right leg had been torn off entirely, and I couldn't move it no matter how much I tried. Worse, the pain made it impossible to concentrate, and I wasn't able to focus my magic to reinforce my shattered body.

"Ah, you're finally awake," said a gruff voice to the right of the bed. It was in English, and my mind struggled to understand. I rolled my head over on the pillow to look at the speaker, and my gaze was met by a pair of dark, hooded eyes.

The man sat in one of the stainless steel chairs that were strewn about the room. With one arm perched on his crossed legs, he calmly smoked a fat cigar that filled the air with its acrid odor. To be fair though, one bad smell was simply replaced with another.

"Who are you?" I asked as my lucidity continued to return. I could see the man wore some sort of military uniform; a dark green with patches on his right breast pocket and lapels. I didn't recognize any of the insignia, but I did see the country's flag on his right arm.

He pulled the cigar out of his mouth and blew the blue smoke towards the ceiling. "Doesn't really matter," he said. "I should be asking you the same thing."

I leaned back and closed my eyes. "I'm the good guy," I said. "I caught those criminals for you."

"Yeah," he said, "And we appreciate it. But seriously, who are you? You've been in our country for almost a month, capturing cartel members left and right, while trying to avoid deaths? You run around in a red coat like you're some sort of superhero."

I smiled at that, but he continued without stopping. "Then you catch a cartel leader, but get so shot up in the attempt that you're easily arrested. That's dedication."

"I don't like seeing people get hurt," I said. "I only kill when I have to."

"You try to avoid killing people that wouldn't do the same for you. What good is that?"

"Everyone should be allowed to live in a better world. If the system wasn't so bad, maybe these criminals would have a better life."

The man shook his head. "That's foolish."

I laughed, but winced in pain as my body shook. "No it isn't. I'm not there yet. I have to kill sometimes. But that will all change one day. The thugs that the police arrested will hopefully reform, and then become productive members of society."

"Listen, buddy," said the man with a hastened tone. "Off the record, I really appreciate what you've done. I hate those cartels as much as the next guy, but you don't understand. Those guys aren't even in prison anymore. One of their bosses is in the government. They're already loose and now you're trapped in here. What did your little stunt in town accomplish other than sending a few guys to the morgue and you to jail?"

My face fell. Was it really all for nothing? I composed myself and asked, "So who do you work for? The cartel?"

He smiled slightly and sat back in his chair. As he put the cigar back into his mouth, he said, "No. I'm a cop, if you can believe that. One of the few untouched by the corruption. The uniform's a fake. I had to get a military outfit to even get in here."

That was a bit of a shock, I'll admit. "So, are you here to get me out?"

"The Red Crusader?" he said with a smirk. "No freaking way. I'd be strung up if anyone found out I helped you."

I looked around the room. There were no cameras or any guards that I could clearly see. Not counting the other delirious patients, we were alone. "So what are you here for?"

"Just keeping an eye on an enemy of the state. I'll call a nurse, it looks like your painkillers have run their course."

He stood and leaned over to shake my hand. As his burly hand squeezed mine, I felt something rough press against my palm. Then his grip broke and he turned his back on me, calling for a nurse. I opened my hand to let a folded piece of paper drop to the mattress. With difficulty, I maneuvered my cuffed hand to grab it and unfold the pulpy sheet, and revealed the message within.

It was written in rough, almost illegible English writing. _We'll be in touch_, it said. My eyes flicked to the entrance as a pair of nurses came in with more medication. They were chatting quietly in their native tongue, and didn't notice me rip up the tiny note and push the scraps off the bed. With careless movements, they attached a new bag to my IV and left without a word to me. Then I sighed as the wave of numbness rushed over me again, and I quickly drifted to sleep.

* * *

It went by in a flash. They were events that I've seen thousands of times, but were now just reduced to feelings. The ragged breath escaping my lungs, the sound of blades clashing, the pain in my legs as I pushed myself to run faster. The new pain hit me, piercing through my chest in a red flash. Then ame cold, and then the new warmth followed. Even though this dream was routine, it was like each feeling was new.

There was a gap of what felt like seconds between this sensation and the next, a dull pain in my side that knocked the breath out of my lungs and shattered a rib. My hand burned, and then everything got really loud. A voice pierced the darkness, and I realized it was mine.

"Saber! Don-"

The scream was cut off in the middle. Whatever I was trying to prevent, I failed.

* * *

It was slower now. Feelings had become images. I saw Saber, silhouetted against the moonlight, standing over the slashed body of Archer, Tohsaka's red knight. Our meeting still passed quickly, and when Tohsaka's mouth moved, I could barely hear her. The haze returned, and events passed me by. I could swear that I was walking. Then I shivered. The dream had taken on an oppressive atmostphere.

"Well then," said a deep voice. "What is your answer, Emiya Shirou?"

Like an electric shock, everything became vivid. Images had become realities, and it was as though I was reliving the events myself. I was in the church on the hill, standing before that detestable priest. I remembered the curl of his lips when I told him my name, and the pleased look he had on his face when he realized exactly who I was.

After a pause, he repeated himself, looking down on me with cold eyes. "Will you fight in this Holy Grail War?"

I gritted my teeth as I glared back. He had such a smug look on his face, as if any answer I gave would please him. Even this late at night, the man wore his priest outfit and a long overcoat. A golden cross dangled from his neck, and every once in a while he would reach up and twist it around on his string. Behind me, Tohsaka shifted from foot to foot, clearly uneasy around him. What sort of relationship did they have? Fellow students rarely had such enmity?

"I don't have a wish for the Holy Grail," I said. "Why should I fight and kill others for something I don't want?"

The priest shook silently, as if he was suppressing a laugh. In his slow drawl, he said, "And do you think Grail Wars are quiet affairs, Emiya Shirou?"

"What?" I replied. The priest was going off on a tangent. "I'd never heard of the Holy Grail War before this night, so why wouldn't they be kept quiet?"

This time the priest actually smiled, a bit too widely for my taste. "Why do you think there is a supervisor then?"

I braced myself for the answer, as if I already knew what was coming. The priest continued after a short pause.

"It is because magi cannot be trusted when left to their own devices. Without a member of the Holy Church, the seven Masters would use this city's population to power their Servants, and mass chaos would erupt. It would be a travesty."

Tohsaka pushed past me and yelled at Kotomine with clenched fists. "Don't act like that would be a good thing, you fake priest!"

With a self-satisfied look on his face, Kotomine said, "Apologies Rin. I forgot this battle takes place on Tohsaka territory. Such an event would cause your great family to be looked on in a poor light."

"Kotomine," I said, "Has something like that ever happened before?"

Without hesitation, the imposing priest said, "Not exactly as I described it. But ten years ago, a fire ravaged this city. Do you remember it?"

Yes, I remembered. Of course I remembered As the words crossed his teeth, my heart turned to ice and my body felt as though a cloak of fire had been wrapped around it. I was sweating, and could barely breathe, much less hear what was going on around me. That fire, the fire that killed my family and nearly me, was caused by the Holy Grail War? So many innocent people died for the wish of one selfish magus? How could anyone have let that happen?

"Is that true, Kotomine?" I asked with labored breaths. I didn't want to hear the answer, but I needed to.

"Of course it is, Emiya Shirou. I would never lie about something so serious. At the end of the 4th War, the Grail chose a winner. The winner's wish was selfish, and unknown to the magus himself. The town suffered as a result."

Damn that priest. A fire that killed more than five hundred people was just a little bit of suffering? My mind was made. I would never allow this to happen. What sort of Hero would stand by and watch when the entire town was at risk? I wanted to protect these people. Faces flashed through my head. Fuji-nee, Sakura, Mitsuzuri, Issei, Saegusa, even Shinji. I wouldn't let anything happen to any of them.

I straightened my back as I stared down the priest. "Kotomine, I accept."

"So you have discovered your wish? Very good. I look forward to seeing the conclusion of this War."

"Yeah, I won't let the Holy Grail fall into the wrong hands. I'd destroy it myself before I let that happen."

Kotomine's smile flickered for a second, but returned as if there was no interruption. Before I could even let him speak, I turned to leave. Tohsaka was at the door already, and there was no reason to stay any longer. After two steps, a hand seized my shoulder from behind. I pulled forward, out of the vice, and spun to face man who had grabbed me. Kotomine seemed like he had something he wanted to say and his presence filled the high ceilinged church.

"Rejoice, boy. Your wish has finally come true."

I turned without speaking and walked out of the church. Anger was boiling up within me. I couldn't deny what the priest had said, but I couldn't accept it either. I wasn't a Hero yet, but this War would allow me to protect others. It sickened me how to save people from danger, I had to put them at risk.

Tohsaka and I left the church and stepped into the cold night air. It was still February, and I was beginning to wish I'd brought a jacket. Tohsaka seemed fine in her uniform, so I stifled my complaints.

"We should hurry back," she said as we met up with Saber.

I nodded back to her without another word. It seemed that we were enemies now, and on the walk home she stayed a few feet away from us.

"Is Archer…" I began, but my voice trailed off as her sharp eyes passed over me.

Then she sighed and said, "No. He's at my house recovering. Saber got him pretty good. He won't recover for a few days."

"What are you going to do until then?" I asked.

"What? Do you want to hear all of my strategies? Don't think for a second that we're allied just because we walked to the church together!" she was mad, for more than one reason probably.

"No, I-" I tried to salvage what little I could. I didn't want to be Tohsaka's enemy.

"Oh, what a surprise. Two on the first night," said a young voice.

We had just passed the bridge, and entered one of Fuyuki City's parks on a thin concrete path. Directly ahead of us, the path curved to the left to go around a hill. Atop the hill stood a sight that I would never forget. The moon had come out, illuminating the two figures before us.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the giant. I couldn't even begin to guess how tall he was, maybe ten feet? More? His skin was the color of lead, and from here it might as well have been. It reflected the light as a metal would. He was shirtless, showing off a grotesque physique of deformed, yet amazingly sculpted muscles and black hair fell back from his head like a lion's mane. In his right hand was a sword, if you could call it that. It was barely a piece of rock, chipped and scratched away until it could be swung by one end. In the hands of that giant though, it didn't even matter.

At his feet was the speaker, a young girl in a purple overcoat and matching hat. My eyes were immediately drawn to her white hair and red eyes. It set me on edge. Those weren't shades commonly seen in Japan, or anywhere for that matter. Then I recognized her. She was the girl that I saw in the shopping district two days before. As her face came to mind again, I remembered her words. _It's about to start, Onii-chan_.

The little girl spoke again as she dropped into a polite curtsey. "Hello Rin. I'm Ilya. Ilyasviel Von Einzbern."

Rin was sweating and crouched as if about to break into a sprint. Even if Archer wasn't with her, she was ready for a fight.

"Berserker," she whispered shakily.

If she was scared, I was terrified. My muscles were frozen even though he wasn't even looking at me. Next to me, Saber had her raincoat off and stood with her invisible sword, but I was still immobile. Was this what I had gotten myself into? Looking at the giant, I knew in an instant that I was just a fly about to be crushed. Was Saber really going to fight this thing?

Ilya smiled, "Looks like I'll kill two tonight! Have fun, Berserker!"

With a deafening roar, the grey giant sped forward faster than I thought was possible. Nothing that big should move that fast. He was down the hill in an instant, leaving great rends in the earth where he stepped. Saber met him at the edge of the path, swinging up her invisible blade to meet the downward strike of his sword. At the speed the giant was moving, the massive weapon was barely a blur, but Saber was able to not only track, but also intercept it.

Their weapons met in an explosion of air. The shockwave shot out, buffeting Tohsaka and I, and bending every tree branch in the vicinity. One strike became two, two became six. Saber and Berserker were trading blows, but it was clear where the advantage was. Saber couldn't keep up with Berserker's ferocity, and little by little she was driven back. With gritted teeth, she focused on defending herself and keeping Berserker away from us.

Tohsaka was the first to move. Muttering in German, she shot a barrage of low level magic at Berserker as she grabbed my hand. "Emiya-kun, let's go!" she shouted.

"But what about Saber?" I said in shock. I didn't even notice that her magic had no effect. It wasn't blocked like it would be against Saber's magic resistance. Berserker had simply negated the attack.

Tohsaka was already dragging me away, making for the trees to the left of the path. I could see her plan. In the tight confines we would hopefully be able to maneuver better than Berserker.

"She can run interference!" Tohsaka replied.

I ran with her and shouted back, "Saber, don't get hurt, just hold him back with hit and run attacks!"

I couldn't hear a reply if there was one, but it seemed that Saber understood. Berserker pursued us as we ran, but every time he tried to close, that small girl intercepted him. With strength unbecoming of her diminutive stature, she distracted the beast long enough for us to gain more ground. Even though our plan was working however, it was a losing battle for Saber. My mana couldn't power her effectively, and she was working off her own reserves. Every blow that Berserker launched threatened to throw her into the air, and most were too fast for her to dodge. A couple of blows became near misses, and the force of the dispersed air slashed up and down Saber's body, drawing blood from mutliple places.

Tohsaka and I reached the trees and plunged into the darkness under the branches. We ran as fast as our legs would carry us, trusting Saber to keep our back protected. As if to answer us, we could hear the sounds of battle approaching from behind. Berserker's roars grew louder, and the clash of stone on steel was a sound that shook my eardrums twice every second. As the two Servants entered the mess of trees, Saber gained a slight advantage. With Berserker's eyesight obstructed, she was able to close easier, and even managed to go on the offensive at a few points. She leapt under his right arm and slashed up with her invisible blade, only to find it repelled by the giant's skin. The blade slid off without inflicting so much as a scratch, and then Berserker's sword swung around in a deadly arc. It crushed two tree trunks without slowly, and Saber was forced to raise her blade to block. There was no time to dodge. With a howl from Berserker, the two blades struck each other at full force.

Ahead of us, Tohsaka and I could see a short wall covered in white stucco. I looked at her, and in that instant our eyes met. We needed to get over past this wall. On the other side was the beginning of a residential neighborhood, and if Ilya knew what was best for everyone, she would call off her giant.

Before Tohsaka could use her magic to demolish a part of the wall, I heard a clash behind me. Then a silvery bundle flew past us, smashing into the wall with a crashing sound and a blast of dust and stone fragments. When the dust cleared, Saber was already standing. Her face was tense, and though she was bleeding from numerous wounds, some worse than others, she still seemed fit to fight. Her hair had come loose at some point, and was whipping back with the periodic gusts of wind. Without missing a beat, she turned and slashed at the already crumbling wall with her blade, cracking it further and creating a path for the three of us.

We ran through, Tohsaka and I first with Saber following. We traversed fifty yards with no sign of pursuit, and I stopped to look back. Berserker stood on the street next to the broken wall, looking up at the sky as Ilya walked through the breach.

"This is boring. Let's go home Berserker," she said in a disappointed voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and even Tohsaka seemed a bit more at ease. Saber however, continued to hold her invisible blade at the ready position.

"Rin," said Ilya with an evil look, "I'll kill you when I see you again. Make sure your Servant is with you."

Then she looked at me and smiled. "I'll see you soon, Onii-chan!"

The cheerfulness in her tone clashed with the sight of the giant that picked her up. Berserker lifted Ilya with a gentle touch and placed the small girl on his shoulder before walking off with ground shaking steps.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I could finally breathe freely. Without meaning to, I fell to my knees and placed my hands against the concrete as a rush of nausea hit me. I retched once, and then vomited; painting the sidewalk in a color I won't forget any time soon. I stood up and spat, then wiped my mouth and nodded apologetically at Rin.

"Its fine," she said, "You aren't much of a magus, so I won't blame you for getting sick in a situation like this. We did barely escape with our lives."

"Saber," I said, "Are you all right?"

She nodded curtly and said, "Yes, Master. I received only slight injury during the battle. It could have been much worse."

"Tohsaka, Saber, as far as Servants go, how strong was he?" I asked. If he was middle tier, this War could be over already.

Rin shrugged, "I can't say really. Lancer was about on par with my Archer, but Saber managed to beat him in seconds. She did catch him by surprise though. Since Archer didn't fight here, I couldn't compare him with Berserker in terms of actual skill."

Her eyebrows contracted as she said, "But I did get a chance to read his stats. They're monstrous. He has an 'A' in almost every category, and we don't even know what his Noble Phantasm is."

"Noble Phantasm," I muttered, trying to recall what it meant before I remembered. "Oh, that's the physical representation of a hero's legend."

Tohsaka smiled, "At least you remembered something from my admittedly short lesson. Yes, a Noble Phantasm is a hero's most famous weapon or ability. We have to hope that since a hero that powerful was summoned as Berserker, he won't be able to use his true Noble Phantasm effectively."

I wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that, but asking another question could make her angry, so I just smiled and nodded.

Saber stepped between us and said, "We should leave the streets. If we linger, another Servant could arrive, and I do not think I could last in a third fight."

"Alright," I said, "Let's get home. Tohsaka, do you want to stay over?"

She looked at me to see if I was joking and said, "What are you thinking Emiya-kun?"

"With Archer injured, you should stay at my house tonight. It's safer that way, since Saber is well enough to fight."

We began walking in the general direction of my house, but Tohsaka protested. "Your house? My house is the safer one. All you probably have is an alarm. I have multiple layers of defenses."

She was right. If you considered our houses as castles, hers was a Spanish star fortress, bristling with cannon, while mine was a broken down keep with a wooden palisade.

"Yeah," I replied. "You're right, Tohsaka. If you'll have me, I'll go to your house. Fuji-nee is busy tomorrow and Sakura isn't coming over until that afternoon."

She motioned for us to follow her, and we continued up the road, walking a few paces behind her. After a moment, she said, "It looks like we're allies, for the time being. As much as I hate it, I have to thank you for your help tonight. If we had gone our seperate ways, one of us would have died."

"But you snapped me out of my trance back there. Thanks for that," I replied. To be honest, I was glad we were allied so early. This meant that, for now at least, I wouldn't have to fight her. "Let's work well together."

She looked over her shoulder at me with a serious expression. "I'm warning you though, Emiya-kun. The Grail is mine. I won't let you have it."

Though Saber tensed up a bit, obviously not content to let that happen, I said, "As long as your wish doesn't cause innocent people to suffer."

"I just it want because of my father," said Tohsaka. "He told me how important it was that our family got the Grail, and died fighting for it. I can't fail him."

Good, I thought. Tohsaka was a good person after all. "Then at the end, we'll let our Servants fight it out."

I'm sure Tohsaka was wearing a sly smile as she said, "Oh? So you do want the Grail?"

"I have no wish for it that I can't fulfill on my own, but Saber probably has a wish. It's my duty as her Master to help her accomplish it."

At those words, Saber's face calmed, and she took a deep breath. When our eyes met again she inclined her head softly to me. Seeing her face suddenly taken with a soft expression, I was dazed for a minute, and nearly ran down Tohsaka, who had stopped suddenly.

"We're here!" she announced. "Let me adjust the settings for the bounded field. There, done. Now you can enter safely."

Tohsaka's house, or mansion rather, was impressive. Made of dark wood and stone, it towered above the rest of the buildings in the neighborhood, overshadowing them all. We entered through the front door into a dimly lit foyer. To the right was the entrance to some sort of living room and a darkened kitchen seemed to be beyond that. Ahead of us was a large double staircase, probably leading to the bedrooms.

"Pardon my intrusion," I said as I took off my shoes. "Tohsaka, where are the guest bedrooms? It's late."

Her eyes widened like she'd forgotten something. "Right, it's upstairs."

We quickly went up to the second floor, where Tohsaka showed Saber and I to a small room next to hers. Of course, a small room in Tohsaka's house is still twice the size of my room, and fully furnished. A large bed sat against one wall, and the others were lined with dressers and other objects that I couldn't find any use for. Still, I found a futon in the closet, and that was good enough for me.

"You can take the bed Saber. It looks like you need it."

I thought she would protest, but she simply said, "Thank you Master. A good night's sleep for the both of us will greatly aid our chances."

I hummed in agreement, then said, "Saber, I know you won't tell me your name yet, but at least call me 'Shirou'. I don't like being called anyone's Master."

She paused for a moment. "Very well, Shirou."

The way she said my name was unique. The last syllable was shortened, and the name came off her tongue quickly. While she pronounced it incorrectly, I let it slide. She was definitely a foreigner, and even though the Grail gave her knowledge of Japanese, she still had an accent.

I pulled back the sheet on the futon and lay down. "Good night Saber."

"Good night, Shirou," she replied after a moment. "Let us work hard tomorrow."

She was right. We had a big day. The Holy Grail War had begun. I wouldn't let anything happen to the people in this town. A fire like the one that destroyed my life would never occur again. As I fell asleep, the faces of those that I wanted to protect drifted through my mind. Issei, Sakura, Fuji-nee, Shinji, Mitsuzuri. . .

* * *

Author's Note: The 5th Grail War begins. As Eyeshield suggested in one of his reviews, I'll be calling this the EMIYA route. The next flashback chapter will show the first big divergences from the three routes in the visual novel. Look forward to them. Reviews are always welcome of course. I enjoy hearing what you have to say, even if it's displeasure. Until next time.


	6. Chapter 5

Morning in the Tohsaka house wasn't exactly what I expected. Without an alarm or sunlight to wake me, my eyes opened on their own in the early hours of the morning. I looked around the room, confused at the unfamiliar surroundings before the drowsiness faded and my memories returned.

It was Sunday, and the Holy Grail War had begun last night. Uncalled for, I flashed back to that fight with Berserker. Simply recalling the ferocity of that giant Servant caused my pulse to quicken. I breathed deeply like Kiritsugu had taught me, and after about thirty seconds I had calmed down again. There was no use getting excited this early in the morning.

I breathed in deeply as I climbed from the futon. The air in Tohsaka's house didn't circulate much, and though it was still cool, it had the feeling of imprisonment. Kiritsugu had told me once that true magi workshops were closed in to keep the mana from escaping. If that was correct, Tohsaka's mansion was probably a perfect fortress for a magus. Still, it made me uncomfortable, and I couldn't wait to get back to my own house.

It was then that I realized that I didn't have a change of clothes. I was still wearing my torn and bloody school uniform from the night before, and I doubted that Tohsaka would have any guy's clothes at all. With a sigh, I walked to the bathroom down the hall and silently washed my face. As I returned to the hall, Saber was standing outside the door to our room. Her face showed no sign of fatigue, and she was dressed as she was last night. Her armor was gone, but the blue and white dress under it seemed clean and unwrinkled.

"Saber," I said with a smile. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Shirou," she said curtly. She waited for me to reach her side, and as I walked past her towards the stairs, she followed.

"I should cook Tohsaka breakfast," I said to no one in particular. "I owe her for giving us a place to stay."

After a bit of searching, Saber and I found Tohsaka's kitchen. It looked used enough. As I thought, Tohsaka could cook for herself. She didn't seem like the kind of person that would eat premade food all the time. After checking her fridge for ingredients, I decided to make pancakes. Saber would probably like them, and I could cook a lot of them fairly quickly.

Tohsaka's kitchen was formed around a central counter where different cutting boards and machines could be placed. A coffee machine was bubbling quietly, dripping the strong smelling liquid down into its clear pot. Around the counter stood high leg chairs that let the counter double as a dining table. Saber quickly pulled back one of the chairs and took a seat as I got the batter prepared. Water for tea was already boiling on the stove as well. That was when Tohsaka walked in.

"Morning," she said through half closed eyes. Her hair was a mess, and she was still wearing what looked like a nightgown. She was probably too tired to have any modesty. I turned a bit red as I averted my gaze. Was this Morning Tohsaka? It clashed so hard with the version that I looked up to I barely could acknowledge its existence.

"Good morning," I replied. "I'm making breakfast for us. Are pancakes good?"

She nodded and muttered. "Sure. Time for coffee."

I nodded with satisfaction as Tohsaka dragged her feet to the coffee machine and poured herself a cup. After taking a sip, her eyes seemed to light up and composure returned to her face for about ten seconds before she realized what she was wearing in front of us.

"I-I'll be back in a minute!" she nearly yelled, and fumbled with her coffee as she ran out of the room. A few minutes later she returned, looking a lot more respectable. Her hair was done up in her usual twin tails, and she wore a tight red sweater and a miniskirt with her long socks.

After working the pancakes on the griddle, I began to place them on plates for Tohsaka and Saber. Tohsaka ate quickly between gulps of coffee, and after a moment's hesitation, Saber began eating as well. I got some syrup and butter from Tohsaka's fridge and placed them on the table. Then I got started on my own food.

* * *

After breakfast was finished, I quickly washed up the dirty plates and cleaned the griddle. Then the three of us took a seat at her table, and I poured us the tea that I prepared earlier.

"I don't think we should do any fighting tonight," said Tohsaka after sipping from her mug. "Archer can't leave spirit form yet, and Saber just got in a fight with Berserker last night. Her mana reserves must be at least a bit depleted."

"It will not inconvenience me too badly," said Saber. "I was not wounded to a large degree and I did not use my Noble Phantasm. Despite Shirou's lackluster supply of mana, I will still be able to operate at full capacity."

I gritted my teeth, angry only at myself. Why did I have to be so under par in this War? The only way I could help right now was by providing mana for Saber, and I couldn't even do that properly.

As if she could understand my thoughts, Rin said, "Don't worry about it, Emiya-kun. If we have to, I could give Saber blood transfusions in an emergency. Right now though, I think she'll be fine. You and I can talk about your magical potential some other time."

I felt some of my anger dissipate and said, "Alright. You can come to my house and see my workshop. That would probably give you a better look into my skills."

"Yeah, but I'm still not expecting much," said Tohsaka. "That still leaves what we should do today."

Saber was the one to speak. "If we are to search out enemy Servants, we should determine battlegrounds that work in our favor. Some places are a better fit for fighting than others, and once we start actively seeking out battles, it should be on our terms."

Tohsaka and I were stunned into silence for a moment. I guess we had forgotten that she was actually a fighter. We had been fooled by the appearance of a young girl, even though we had seen her fight a raging monster the night before.

"That's smart actually," said Tohsaka. "Fights during the day are prohibited, so going around town during the day is safe. I have stuff to prepare here, but I'll send Archer with you in spirit form. That will let me understand what's going on during the day."

Saber and I stood to leave, but Tohsaka stopped us. "Saber, don't you think that dress is a bit too eye-catching?"

"What do you mean?" asked Saber. I looked her over, and even though I'm not the best judge of women's fashion, I had to agree with Tohsaka. Saber would stick out like a sore thumb in that dress.

"Come with me," said Tohsaka, "I have some clothes that Kotomine gave me a few years ago. They should fit you."

While they were gone, I waited in the foyer on one of Tohsaka's stiff-backed chairs. After about ten minutes, Saber and Tohsaka returned, with the former wearing a long blue skirt with a white blouse. It suited her surprisingly well.

"Thanks Tohsaka," I said, "Would you mind if we take some more of those clothes with us when we go back to my house? I don't have anything for her to wear other than Sakura's clothes."

"Sure," she replied. "I'll bring them when I come to examine your workshop."

"Thanks, Tohsaka," I said, "I appreciate it."

With that, the two of us left the mansion. As we walked I felt a presence behind us, most likely that of Archer watching in spirit form. We headed north, bringing us through Fuyuki's residential district.

"I can already think of some places that are good for fighting," I said. "What do you think we should look for Saber?"

She thought for a moment and said, "Against Berserker we should seek to maximize our advantages. While a cramped area would impede him, for Archer and I to properly fight him, we would both need some space. Therefore, any relatively open area would work."

"What about battlefields for the other classes?" I asked.

"My magic resistance will protect me from any powerful spells Caster uses, so no special battlefield is in order. We must simply drag him away from his own territory. Fighting a Caster on their own terms is risky. As for Rider and Assassin, keeping them close is probably best. We should look for battlegrounds that will reduce their mobility to my level."

"So nothing too wide open?" I said, "We should avoid the bridge and downtown then."

I lead us west, heading towards the shopping district near my home. The streets around there are narrow, and would allow Saber to stay close to her opponents. I figured that would be the best place to prepare to later battles.

As expected for Sunday around noon, the shopping district was packed. Families moved around at a slow pace from store to store. Saber and I brushed through the crowd, examining the streets and alleys for chokepoints that we could use in the fights. At night, the streets would be clear, and according to Saber, would be perfect for fighting.

"Since we're here," I said, "Why don't we go ahead and get groceries for tonight?"

"That sounds good," replied Saber. "If you do not mind, I will wander around for a bit. You will be safe during the day, just stay around other people."

"Alright, Saber," I said. I turned and pointed to the intersection behind us, "Let's meet at the corner there in about twenty minutes."

"Very well," she replied before vanishing into the crowd.

I focused my attention on getting ingredients. Normally I would go shopping later in the afternoon, but it would be a hassle to go home and then come back later. I had just enough money in my wallet to afford my groceries. I guess I should thank Mitsuzuri next time I see her. If I had payed for myself last night, I wouldn't be able to buy anything now.

As I was buying some produce from a street vendor, something small tackled me from behind and clung to my pants leg.

"Its you, Onii-chan!" Said a familiar voice. Fear flooded my body for an instant as I turned to face the white hair girl that held fast to me. Then it vanished as I saw her face. Maybe it was because it didn't feel the presence of the giant that followed her, or Tohsaka's reassurance that I wouldn't be attacked during the day.

"Ilya," I said slowly, recalling her introduction from last night. "What are you doing out here? Isn't it dangerous for you?"

She smiled mischievously but didn't answer my question. "Sella and Leysritt are out shopping," she said. "I saw you and decided to say hi!"

Her demeanor was a complete 180 from last night. Gone was the cold Master. The innocent girl from days ago had returned, and the ice in her eyes had melted away.

"Where's Berserker?" I asked hesitantly. Was he in spirit form? Could he just appear in front of all of these people? Over Ilya's shoulder, on the opposite side of the street, I saw Saber standing with her eyes locked on the two of us. She was tense, crouched down as if to leap forward to protect me. Under her white clothes I could see her muscles tightened, ready for the burst of motion needed.

"He's at home. I can't exactly bring him around with me," said Ilya. "Would you like to see it, my house I mean?"

Before I could even speak, images flashed within my head. A path through dark woods, and a gargantuan castle that reminded me of some European fortress, fresh from the middle ages. Somehow, I knew. I understood what the flashing images meant. Ilya had given me a map, in a surprisingly personal way.

"Why did you. . ." I began to ask. I couldn't comprehend why she would show me such a thing after she tried to kill me the night before.

"You should come and play sometime, Onii-chan!" she said, "I was just showing you the way."

Then I understood. There was no way Saber alone could defeat Berserker. In fact, with Archer, it would probably still be difficult. She could show us her home because there was nothing we could do to harm her. This was her way of being kind.

"But," she said, "if I find out here before you come and play! I'll have Berserker kill you and Saber."

Her tone had shifted back to the one from last night, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Then she hugged me tightly, and before the mood whiplash had begun to set in, turned and ran into the crowd. Saber's eyes followed her as she left with two white clothed maids.

"Shirou," said Saber as she crossed the road, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said as I got to my feet again. "She didn't even seem that hostile."

Saber was silent. She seemed to be thinking intently. I assumed she was worried about Berserker, so I didn't bring it up with her.

"We should go," I said. I spun on my heel, holding my groceries in my right hand, and was face to face with someone familiar.

Mitsuzuri Ayako stood in front of me, looking almost as surprised as I was. She was wearing a hoodie and jeans, exactly how I imagined her to dress outside of school. Behind her was a redheaded boy with hair of an average length. His eyes were deliberately averted, and he was biting his lip in disgust.

"Hey Emiya," said Mitsuzuri, "Shopping I see. What's for dinner?"

"Not sure," I replied. "I just bought what looked good. What about you?"

She shrugged. "Same, pretty much. I dragged this moron along to carry it all for me."

She turned and slapped the back of her brother's head. "Hey, bozo! Be respectful to your elder and say hello!"

He grimaced in anger and then swallowed his expression. "Good afternoon, Emiya-senpai."

I exhaled. Why did he dislike me so much? "Afternoon, Minori."

Crap, that pissed him off. He was fuming after I referred to him so familiarly, but a glare from his older sister shut him up. Then Mitsuzuri did a double take.

"Emiya," she said, "Why are you wearing your school uniform? Its Sunday you know?"

Before I could answer she got really close to me, staring at the tear in my jacket's breast. "Is that blood Emiya? What the hell happened to you? Did you get mugged or something?"

She looked up at me and Saber caught her eye. Her gaze flashed between my sweating face and Saber's stoic one, and she grinned, probably assuming something completely in character for me but still very, very wrong. "You dog," she whispered with a bit of amusement. "We'll talk tomorrow at lunch, you're telling me everything."

She grabbed her brother's hand and pushed past me before I could even hope to clear up the misunderstanding that had probably taken root in her mind already.

"Should we continue looking for proper battlefields?" I asked Saber to try and get my mind back on task.

"I do not believe there is any need to continue. These streets are adequate for a fight." She really did seem confident. "Let us return to your house."

The walk to my house from the shopping district is short, but by the time we reached the gate that led into the yard, we hadn't seen anybody in about ten minutes. If we really did have to fight near my house, we wouldn't have to worry about witnesses.

We walked across the yard, and as we were taking our shoes off inside the front door, we came face to face with Fuji-nee. She stood for a second, examining the two of us. I started to speak, but the Tiger had emerged before a word could even leave my lips. I was in a rear naked choke in a second, and Fuji-nee was dragging me down the hall, while keeping her eyes locked on Saber. The blond hair girl stared at the two of us in confusion, even as I clawed out to her for help.

"Shirou," she hissed. "Why is there a blond following you around? What did you do to her? What did she do to you? Do you owe her money?"

I rubbed my neck and wheezed as she let me go in another room. "She's a friend of dad's," I said, coming up with the only excuse I could think of. At the time, I had no clue how correct and incorrect that statement was.

Surprisingly, she took the bait, and even accepted it when I said that Tohsaka would be coming to spend the night later. Still, I could see her watching me out of the corner of her eyes, and when I made tea for the four of us later, the table in the living room was almost completely silent save for the clatter of glasses on the tabletop.

"Where's Sakura?" I asked.

Fuji-nee shrugged and said with almost practiced laziness, "She called and said she wouldn't be able to come over for a few days, family problems."

I nodded, but made a note to ask Shinji about it later if I could. The rest of the evening passed without incident, and I managed to get my practice routine in that night. With school tomorrow, the Holy Grail War and all of its planning would have to be delayed until that afternoon.

* * *

Interlude

It was nearing midnight on the stairs. Around the stone steps, the trees rising into the crisp night sky created a trench like claustrophobia for spiritual beings, but this one wasn't fazed in the slightest. With a natural swagger, the figure strode up the steps, letting his red polearm drag alone the stones behind him. Framed by moonlight, the gate was ahead. His eyes opened and he smirked as he saw the purple hakama fluttering in the light wind.

On the flat entrance to the Ryuudou temple, the samurai stood like a statue, holding his impossibly long blade out horizontally with closed eyes. "So you've come," he said.

"Am I the first?" said Lancer from below. His spear spun, and the point came forward to face the swordsman above.

"Yes," replied the samurai, without any hesitation. "I am Assassin."

His eyes opened, and he pointed his curved blade towards Lancer as he stepped into a fighting stance. Lancer dropped into a stance of his own, ready to fulfill his orders. _Fight every Servant, but do not kill._ That was what his Master ordered. So, even though he wanted to skewer this Assassin, he would have to hold back.

Then Assassin leapt forwards, bringing his long sword down in a diagonal slash towards Lancer's neck. The Irish warrior leaped back, avoiding the blade entirely, and managed to dodge the next two before allowed the fourth strike to slide off his red spear. Then he counterattacked, stabbing forward faster than Assassin's eyes could follow. Still, the samurai's instinct protected him, deflecting and parrying strikes that he couldn't see or even hear. But with every strike, Assassin was forced back towards the gate.

Then Lancer saw a glint in Assassin's eye, and his counter attack began. Strikes came from outside of Lancer's field of vision, strikes that Lancer should certainly see coming. Even after dodging or blocking them ten times, they still surprised him as the long blade whistled through the air. He began backing down the stairs to gain some distance, but Assassin followed him the whole way, launching attack after attack.

"You're good," said Lancer with a deep breath. The pair paused and reassessed each other. "Never thought fighting an Assassin one on one would be so hard."

"Well," said a feminine voice from above, "then you have made a mistake coming here."

He looked up to see a cloaked figure flying above, her dark robes spread like the wings of a massive bat. Gibberish flowed from her mouth, and the night lit up. Beams of magic flew towards Lancer, and his eyes widened. Even with his Magic Resistance, one shot would probably cripple him. He turned to disengage, only to find Assassin had leapt behind him during the distraction.

His only option was to charge up the stairs with Assassin trailing him. He avoided blasts of magic as well as swipes from the samurai's blade as he desperately thought of a way out. One solution came to mind, he would have to use his Noble Phantasm to escape. He spun and switched his spear to an underhanded grip, ready to throw it down to slay Assassin.

"I will not allow that," said a voice. He turned and prepared to block the incoming strike, only for his eyes to widen in shock as the punch hit the back of his head. He stumbled towards the suited man, still wondering how he could be hurt as the man's knee struck his chin. Lancer nearly fell down the stairs as the ground exploded all around him. Then Assassin's blade slashed into his defenseless back and the suited man's foot connected with his cheek. He was surrounded now, and was using up all of his effort just to defend himself. There was no chance to flee, and no chance to even activate his Noble Phantasm to kill one of his foes. He couldn't even detect where the man's attacks were coming from, much less how they were hurting him.

Above, Caster was speaking in an accelerated voice, shouting out in an ancient language to power her magics. This time, she spoke five verses for a single spell. With her already shorted casting times, this length powered a specialized magic from the Age of Gods. Crystals shot down with surprising accuracy, striking Lancer on the chest and legs. They held fast and spread at an alarming rate, even with his innate Magic Resistance skill. Assassin's blade struck, tearing a chunk of flesh from his neck, and he fell to his knees. At the same time, the suited man launched a powerful uppercut into his gut, shattering two ribs and stunning him.

In an instant, Caster was in front of him. Under the hood of the cloak, she was smiling, and in her hand was a glowing dagger of dull jewel. Lancer couldn't do anything as the blade rushed forward to pierce his throat. But the blade did not slay him.

Caster's hand began to glow, and markings appeared, taking a form familiar to Lancer. Then he felt an immense flow of mana, held back like a dam. He looked up at Caster with a question in his eyes.

"My Rule Breaker has severed your contract with your Master. Whether you like it or not, I am your Master now."

Lancer laughed. "I didn't like the guy much, but don't expect me to betray two people in this War."

She frowned and looked down at her hand. One of the marks was faded. "By the power of this Command Spell," she said as another part of the pattern began to glow. "Submit to my will."

Power rushed through Lancer, but he resisted. With all of his might, he fought the activation of the Command Spell, and was barely able to hold it back. He chuckled with pain in his voice and said, "You won't break me that easy."

Caster laughed. "You'll submit soon enough." Pain flooded Lancer as her magic filled him. So, he thought, she would torture him until he could no longer resist her commands. He would have liked to think that he could hold out, or die without submitting to her, but deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew. He wouldn't last more than a day.

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter marks the first big difference between this EMIYA route and the other three. I hope you all enjoyed it. Reviews are always appreciated, especially those that can provide criticism.


	7. Chapter 6

In the two months that I've been held in this dank rock, I've learned the extent of this country's sickness. It's diseased to the core, with the corruption of drugs and drug money eating at its heart from the inside out. A maggot ridden corpse has more life than this place. A pragmatic doctor would say it's too far gone, that the dying parts should be cut away to salvage what can be spared. And yet here I am, that desperate physician trying to save the whole body of a rotting man. I've come to think recently that it will be impossible. To save this place, I'll have to amputate.

My time has been spent doing a total of two things, pouring prana into my ruined body, and talking with my police contact. Generally, he called once a week on a private phone and we talked for a few hours at a time. Rodrigo, as he called himself, kept me updated on current events in the area. He and a few of his clean partners had been searching out the political leader that was pulling strings for the cartels. Apparently I was to do something when I inevitably got out, but he never said how I was supposed to escape.

The people here are interesting as well. The guards are practically cartel members themselves. They can do whatever they like and get away without any repercussions, and they tend to. The prisoners are a mix of the insane and the outspoken. Anyone that vocally opposes the government has been spirited away and tossed here, with no hope for escape or release. A terrorist like me is just a part of the crowd.

I climbed from the hospital cot. This ward, home to the prison's insane, had become my home. I faked my injuries, allowing me to stay in a relatively unsecure environment. Barefoot, I walked out of the concrete floored room, making my way towards the center of the prison. Guards were scarce, but with a majority of political prisoners, there wasn't much chance for a riot. I followed wet hallway, keeping my eyes and ears open for any unusual activity. My only clothes for the past few weeks had been a pair of grey sweatpants, and a shirt that had been torn badly a few days before. So, I made my way to the phone bare-chested. There wasn't anybody in the room when I got there, so I just waited and looked at the phone from a wooden bench against the wall. Everything in this prison was concrete or wood. It was unnerving, and definitely an advantage for the wardens. The surroundings demoralized the prisoners, and kept them subdued in a way that even threats of death would not.

After about thirty minutes of waiting, the phone rang twice and I picked it up. "Hello?" I said, in English as usual.

"Your pronunciation isn't getting much better, samurai," said the man on the other end. I could almost hear his wide-toothed smile.

"Rodrigo," I said with a breath. That was even harder to pronounce. "Do you have anything for me?"

"Yeah, but first, maybe you shouldn't say my name. Those R's give you trouble," he said, rolling his tongue.

"Not that much, I can at least attempt to say it," I replied. "Your name could be a lot worse, like Luviagelitta."

"I'm not even going to ask who that is," said the burly Hispanic. "More to the point, we need you out here."

"You've made progress?" I said with expectation. If he had found the source of the political corruption, it was time for me to spring into action. Of all the people in this country, I was the only one that could act. I had no connections here, or any history. My body was strong enough now as well. I had spent the last few days working out, getting back into a semblance of physical fitness while hiding my condition from the guards. I wasn't at my prime, by any means, but it would do.

"Yeah," he replied. "We found the guy, but from where we sit, he's untouchable, politically and physically. We need you out here."

"When can you get me out?" I asked.

"That's the thing," he said, after a pause, "We can't."

My face fell, "What do you mean?"

"Kid," he said, "We don't have the political leverage to pardon you, or the numbers to break you out. Unless you can get out on your own, you're stuck there."

I wracked my brain for a solution. If I had to escape, I wanted to do it quietly, but I doubted that was an option. "Do you know an easy way out?" I asked.

"If you can shut down the guard tower searchlights, they won't be able to track you. That would require waiting for night though, not sure what you want to do."

I nodded. That could work. With the searchlights down and the tower guards incapacitated, I could get over or through the outer wall. I just had to worry about the unknown number of guards. I still hadn't been able to make an accurate count.

"I'll find a way," I said. "Where can we meet?"

"About four miles south of the prison is a small mountain hamlet. I'll be there with a few of my trusted men. We'll wait until dawn, but that's it."

"Yeah, I understand," I said. Then something hit me. "Can the guards listen in? I should have asked weeks ago, but they never seemed to notice."

I heard a laugh from the other end of the line. "No," said Rodrigo, "They can't. My men aren't idiots. We have this line secure. Besides, I doubt any of them speak English."

"How did you pull that off?" I asked. Something of that scale probably wasn't easy.

"Don't even ask," he replied. "It hurts even thinking about it. Alright, we'll wait in the hamlet tonight. Don't get killed, and go with God."

"Thanks," I said, and hung up. The sun was beginning to creep into the room from the single barred window, a square foot cut into the thick concrete wall. I left the room and entered the hallway, also beginning to brighten with the morning sun, and looked out into the courtyard. I had to stand on my toes to even reach the window, again barred with strips of rusted iron.

The courtyard wasn't much to speak of. Whatever grass there had been, it was gone now, whether because of poor care of bad weather, I couldn't tell. With the rains the prison got, the dirt that made up the yard was a quagmire, sucking mud and deep puddles that could see a man submerged if he took a bad step. The area was about a hundred square meters, with a ten foot high wall of concrete marking the borders. Guards patrolled at irregular intervals on the walls, and two towers on the corners had snipers positioned.

"This is trouble," I said with a sigh. The only way out of the prison is through the courtyard. The rest is built into the side of the mountain, and there weren't any secret tunnels like in the movies. Outside the gate, a flat mountain road leads downward, making an easy target of any escapee. If I was supposed to escape, I'd need to take care of the towers.

Thankfully, most prisoners were confined to the wings further back. The medical wing was closer to the entrance, giving me a head start, and reducing the chances of getting innocents caught in the crossfire. That was a small blessing, but it was enough for me.

I returned to the hospital wing, and climbed back into my bed. Today, I'd play the part that I have been playing for weeks, an injured man slowly recovering. While I rested, I laid my plan. My two objectives were the armory near the center of the prison, and the guard towers on the outside. With the armory down, I could recover my Shroud and prevent access to weapons. Then I could disable the searchlights and escape. All in all, it would be pretty simple compared to some of the things I've done. I rolled over on my cot, building up strength for the night to come.

The shouts of the guards woke me. I rolled from the cot and walked to the door, peering around to stare down the hallway. A few guards were loudly arguing with a prisoner. It was in Spanish, and far too fast for me to understand. Then one of the guards struck the prisoner, an older man that probably weighed less than Sakura. The three guards crowded around the fallen man and began to beat him senseless. Two held short clubs, while the third struck him with the butt end of a revolver.

I dashed forward, my feet silent on the concrete floor. My arms wrapped around the neck of the guard with the gun, and I pulled him back off his feet. With a single motion I threw him downwards, slamming him into the floor. The rifle slid away, but I didn't care. I stepped forward, under the guard of the startled men. I saw the shock on the first's face as my fist hit his floating rib. The crack was sickening as the rib snapped. It must have punctured his lung, as the man's next breath came away bloody.

As he fell, I snatched his club from the air and used it to strike the throat of the third guard. The man fell without a sound, his trachea crushed. I breathed deeply, standing over the three bodies. Without me giving more than a glare, the prisoner ran off, leaving me alone. I looked down. One corpse, one about to be, one living but unconscious. I had killed them without even a second's hesitation. Was this part of my amputation? These were men as well, but did they have to die? At this moment, I resolved, yes. They did have to die, simply because they were in my way. I had to kill them to escape unharmed, because there was a greater fight on my horizon. The lives that I could save then would be of a much greater magnitude. So, my aversion to killing now had to be suppressed.

I took the pistol with me. It was a venerable weapon, battered and scratched, but it would do its job, at least until its six rounds were spent.

I ran deeper into the prison, hugging the walls and keeping my steps light. It was getting dark, and I assumed that the guards were taking a break for dinner. The bonus of having a compliant population was the way they could all eat together in a small room near the entrance. Most of the active guards were probably in the courtyard. There would be little chance of them seeing the guards I had dealt with.

The further into the prison I got, the less uniform it looked. The floors and walls were cracked, concrete haphazardly laid, almost like the builders had gotten tired of digging deeper into the mountain that provided the foundation. I stepped carefully. Cutting a foot on a piece of cracked concrete would put an end to my hasty escape.

The armory was ahead. I had expected something out of a Hollywood bank robbery, a massive vault with a thick door. What I found was simply a barred off area of the hallway, no different than a larger cell. I put my back to the wall and slowly edged my way closer. I stopped at the edge of the concrete and listened. Rustling around the corner alerted me to the presence of a guard. He was close, probably no more than arms length from the gate. If he wasn't, I could be in trouble.

I spun around the corner and shot a hand through the bars. Thankfully, the guard was seated unbelievably close to the door. He was half-asleep, head nodding as he drifted into slumber. I grabbed him near the collar and pulled him towards me. At the same time, I leapt backwards. His head hit the bars first, deforming the poorly made iron and sending him into an entirely different kind of sleep. As I lowered him to the ground, I unclipped the key ring from his belt. There was a mess of keys, each rusted and overlarge for their purpose.

I opened the sliding bar door and wasted no time preparing to leave. I quickly clothed myself, putting on denim pants and a sleeveless white shirt that I found in a bin at the back of the room. I put on boots next. Footwear was probably more important than anything else. My shroud was neatly folded on a shelf that lined the wall, and on top of it laid my pendant and the photo of Rin and Ayako. I breathed a sigh of relief. Those were two things I couldn't afford to lose. I quickly put them in my vest pocket and took a long look at my weapon, and then to the rack of guns that lined the wall. They looked almost unused, a line of fresh American made M16A4 rifles. Why were the guards not carrying them? Were they worried that they would get fouled in the weather, and only kept them for riots like the one I was about to cause?

I found a tactical vest in the back. It was one of four, and I doubt there were more around. I doubted that a backwater place like this would get a lot of money, so the weapons were surprising enough. I filled its slots with extra magazines, and then put even more spares into the bag. The last thing I grabbed was a knife. Even with my projections it was good to have a backup weapon.

I left the armory after making sure the guard was still unconscious, locking the gate behind me as I went. However, instead of taking a left to head back to the courtyard and freedom, I went right, deeper into the facility. I needed to free the other prisoners. Some would die in the escape, more were probably too weak to even keep up, and none of them probably knew how to use a weapon. This was stupid, Shirou. This was stupid, reckless, and idealistic. Really, this was completely in character for me. I couldn't leave them to rot, ever.

As I ran, I tossed a look back down the hall. If anybody came to relieve the guard at the armory, I could get trapped down in the cell blocks. I needed to move fast. I sprinted forward through darkened halls, lit only with dying halogen bulbs, bare to the elements. A guard turned the corner ahead of me, lighting up a cigarette. My rifle butt took him straight in the forehead, and before his body had even hit the floor I had rounded the corner. Another guard was right in my way, but too far to knock over. I fired two shots, cringing as the crack echoed within the confined area. The guard, just a boy really, stumbled backwards and slid down the wall, leaving a smear of red on the concrete. I paused unwillingly, looking at him. His hands weakly moved to raise his gun, but he didn't have the strength. A wide pool was spreading beneath him, staining the dirty green fatigues he wore. He mumbled something under his breath as blood dripped from the corners of his mouth. Never once did his eyes leave mine. I stared back, mouth slack. My throat was dry, and though I wanted to offer an apology, what could I say? I swallowed painfully and walked past him, looking at the floor.

I walked through the thin door and emerged into a wide room lined with massive cells. Rather than create individual rooms for each prisoner, the builders of this pit had decided to shove the inmates into these confines like a one would keep an animal. There were no toilets, and the walls were coated in blood and excrement. Huddled in groups behind the rusted bars, the prisoners turned to look at me, eyes distant.

"It's time to get out of here," I said in English, hoping someone would be able to translate for me. "All of us."

There was whispering in the crowd as I stepped forward towards one of the cell doors. The bars looked weak, but I didn't want to risk anything. I closed my eyes and considered a weapon to project. One came to mind immediately, as usual. I concentrated, allowing the prana to flow into my right hand as I visualized, broke down, and recreated the weapon's structure and history. Then, grasped in my hand was something solid. I opened my eyes to look on the weapon I had projected. It was a thin sword, no more than four feet long, double edged with a basket hilt. The razor-like blade gleamed even in the darkness.

I stepped up to one of the cell doors and swung the sword down towards the lock. The metal parted like butter, and the wheeled door slid backwards. Then I walked to the other side of the room to do the same. Once the doors were open, and I made sure that there weren't any more, I allowed the sword to shatter into nothing.

Slowly, the prisoners began to exit the cells, and I finally got a good look at them. They were, for the most part, half starved. Ribs were clearly visible under the rags they wore, and some of the older prisoners could barely walk as it was. At the fore however, was a cadre of about twenty young men. Even with the lines of hunger on their faces, they had enough strength. They knew what I was here for, and they were ready to leave.

"Who are you?" asked one of the men.

"I'd like to say I'm a hero, but I suppose that's not entirely true."

He didn't seem to fully understand, but said, "We'll follow you. The weaker ones will lead the old and sick. None of us can stay here any longer."

I nodded, and ran back the way I came, trusting them to follow. We needed to move fast. If the guards had a sudden spark of intelligence, they would have heard the gunshots earlier and come to investigate. The halls were clear and we made it to the armory without a problem. I dropped behind the corner that led into the armory and began covering the hall as the younger men began to arm themselves. One stood next to me, watching the same direction with his new assault rifle. He was also wearing one of the tactical vests.

"Looks like we're doing ok," he said.

"Yeah," my voice was tense. The guards could come by at any time, and then the killing would begin.

"I'm Fernando, by the way," he said out of the blue. I looked up at him. It seemed that the idea of freedom was fueling him, and color had begun to return to his rounded face.

"Emiya Shirou, er- Shirou Emiya," I said, remembering to phrase my name in the proper order. I looked back, the younger men were almost fully armed and the elderly and sick were being brought up. Then there was a crack, and one of the prisoners, a frail looking man with white hair, slumped forward, bleeding from a hole in his chest. Four more shots came, and the escapees in the hall dropped to the ground. I wasn't able to tell who was hurt and who wasn't.

Above me, Fernando began firing his weapon down the hall. I brought the plastic stock to my shoulder and aimed as well. At the "T" at the end of the corridor, two men took cover behind the corners, just as I was doing. They fired at us with handguns, probably all they had on them at the time. I squeezed the trigger of my rifle, got used to the recoil, and then began to snap off suppressive shots. Above me, Fernando was firing bursts. His shots were going wild, striking the wall at the far end of the T. It was enough though, the return fire slowed and then ceased all together.

I waved the other men forward, and they edged into the hall, firing in succession to discourage any gunfire in return. After I was sure it was relatively safe, I ran to the wounded. That old man I saw fall was unmoving, and when I lifted him up, there was no strength in his body. One look at his glassy eyes had told me all I needed to know. There was nothing I could do, and I reluctantly lowered him to the ground. Groans from behind me indicated at least one more wounded.

"Fernando, tell them to stay back. We can't let them get in the line of fire again."

He looked back at me and nodded, and then began giving orders in Spanish, seemingly addressing both the armed men and the ones trailing behind. The younger men regrouped and began advancing down the hall, still firing their weapons. They were smart, conserving their ammo by firing single shots, but still a bit jumpy. I trailed behind them. If I moved to fast, I posed the risk of surprising them.

Then they reached the corner. One of the boys turned to the right at the T while the others slowed to a halt. I was running up to pull him back when the first bullets hit him. He jerked a few times, and little puffs erupted from his body. He looked puzzled as he fell, but with that many wounds, it was already over.

Fernando started screaming in Spanish, holding a few of the others back as he cursed. I reached them, and wordlessly sidled up to the corner. I lied down on the wet concrete and inched around, just trying to catch a glimpse. Gunfire erupted around my head and I pulled back with a jerk. My ears were ringing and the impacts of the bullets on the walls had covered my face in dust, but I got a good enough look.

I grabbed Fernando. His eyes were wide and shaking, and he kept swallowing. I slapped him hard and yelled, "Keep it together!"

He seemed to calm, or at least regain control of his faculties. I gripped him by the shoulders, and said slowly but forcefully, "They have at least eight guards on the other side. Handguns, shotguns, maybe one assault rifle. We can't get around that corner like this, but if they keep us pinned, we're screwed. They'll just wait us out."

"W-what do we do?" he said shakily. He was twitching, frightened. Obviously he had never seen fighting before. His gung ho attitude was gone and I realized that he was probably a law student, or a doctor or something innocent like that.

"I need suppressing fire. Then I can act. It will put you at risk, but it's the only way."

He nodded, resolve returning to his face, and began speaking to the others. They moved to the corner and began firing bursts. The return fire was intense, but they were able to keep up a steady stream of shots back at the guards. One of Fernando's men fell, shot through the stomach, and he was pulled back and laid down. Another took his place and continued to shoot. Meanwhile, I began my projections. First, my bow appeared in my right hand. That was an easy thing to trace, almost as easy as Kanshou and Bakuya. Then in my left, a blade. It was one from my memories, a nameless thing that had just been shown to me. I didn't understand anything about its history or lineage, just how to use it. I pushed more prana into the weapon, breathing out as it deformed.

Then, I launched myself out into the middle of the hall as I notched the sword onto the bow string. I drew back as bullets whizzed by me and let the arrow loose. It flew down the hall, through the closed bar gate that separated the cell blocks from the administrative area, and hit the line of overturned steel tables that the guards were using for cover.

The blade exploded in a brilliant flash, and all return fire from the guards ceased as they were either killed by the shrapnel or tossed off their feet. Before the smoke had even begun to settle, I was running forward. I shot the gate's lock four times and kicked it open without even breaking stride. I heard shrill screams behind me. Then, Fernando's men were at my side. They were charging like madmen, screaming as they ran. We entered the administrative area. Papers and files were strewn everywhere, knocked about by the explosion, and there was a massive crater in the floor. The few guards that were left alive were just now getting to their feet, and in what I assumed to be vengeance, were immediately gunned down by the men at my side.

At the other end of the room, one guard managed to stand and fire off the six rounds that his pistol held. One of the rounds struck the butt of my rifle, shattering it. The deformed bullet continued on its path, hitting my tactical vest in the left abdomen. The impact stunned me, and I fell to a knee. As I checked to make sure the bullet hadn't pierced the vest, I heard two rifle shots and a scream. Evidently, that guard was now dead. Fernando's men were effective, even if they had no training. I sighed as I stood. They may be frantic and angry now, but they lives they took would burden them later. I looked up, and immediately my eyes widened in shock.

On the floor in front of me laid Fernando. One of the guard's bullets had struck him right below the eye. The round was too small of a caliber to leave an exit wound, so a small drip of blood from his cheek was the only indication of a wound. However, I knew what had happened. The bullet had bounced around his skull like a pinball, a horrible thing to think about. "At least it was quick", I thought as I closed his eyes.

The others had only just noticed. Their bodies seemed to go slack as I stood, their faces blank with shock. I shook my head, and it was like I flipped a switch. The four of them that were left began shouting what I assumed were expletives directed at the guards.

"Calm down!" I snapped. "This is no time to lose control."

They didn't even seem to hear me, and my heart sank as I realized none of them could understand. The others were coming now, and despite my attempts to slow them, they weren't going to wait. Upon seeing Fernando's corpse, they picked up their pace towards the door leading out into the courtyard.

"Stop!" I shouted, stepping in their path, but they were too frenzied to listen. They shoved their way past me, striking at me violently if I tried to pull them back. I managed to grab one, a younger man of about forty with thinning black hair and a scar down his cheek. I managed to lock his arms while I shouted for the others to come back.

They didn't listen, and they paid the price. As the fifteen or so prisoners ran into the courtyard, they were hit by the massed automatic fire of the remaining prison guards. They were situated in and around the guard towers, armed with the secondary weapons that must have been secured in the towers themselves. I could only watch as the prisoners fell one by one, hit by dozens of bullets. The scant few that were armed fired off a few futile shots before they fell. To their credit, they continued to fire even as they died. In less than thirty seconds, everything was quiet. I released the man, and we solemnly overlooked the carpet of bodies lying in the courtyard. They were covered in mud tinged red, contorted into impossible positions. The young, the old, the sick; they all laid side by side.

The man looked at me furtively, not encouraged by my grim expression. I grabbed him by the shoulders and lowered him to the ground. Even though he couldn't understand my speech, hopefully he could comprehend my body language. If the two of us were going to get out of here alive, I needed to take care of those guard towers. I was about to project my bow when I heard a woman's voice behind me.

"Stop, please!" she said. Her voice was accented English, motherly but strict. I turned to see a three people, two women and a man. They were standing near the door on the other side of the room, half open and leading to a file archive. All three of them wore white jackets over their grimy work clothes, and immediately I recognized them as the prison's doctors.

They weren't threatening, so there was no reason for me to be hostile. "Yes?" I asked.

"You'll die if you go out that way," said the other woman. She looked about twenty, with dark hair framing brown eyes and a round face. "The guards will kill anybody else that sets foot in the courtyard."

"Even you doctors?" I asked, surprised that two of them spoke English.

"Make no mistake," said the older woman. "We may walk freely, but we are prisoners just the same. We would like to go with you."

"You just said we can't leave," I said with a sarcastic smile. "Unless you have another plan?"

I looked outside. A storm was starting to come in, and the howling wind through the open door sent the papers that had settled to the floor fluttering across the room once more. The rain would hit soon, and that would provide the best chance to escape.

"There is another way out," said the younger woman, glancing fearfully at the storm just as I did. "It will not let us escape, but it can allow you to get the drop on those guards."

She motioned towards the archive they came from, and I followed. As I did, the older woman spoke in hushed tones with the only prisoner I managed to save from the massacre that had just occurred.

"What do you have for me?" I asked as we entered the cramped room. She didn't even need to respond. At the back of the archive was a service ladder that led through a hatch in the ceiling.

"It will take you to the roof," she said, not looking me in the eye.

"And in this rain I'll be practically invisible," I finished. This could actually work. I handed the girl my bag and immediately began up the ladder. The hatch led to a darkened tunnel leading straight up, and I followed the rungs of the ladder blindly. Eventually I reached the top, another metal hatch, rusted over by a combination of age and the elements. In the scant space I had, I fumbled for a latch, and eventually found it. Even then it took a few minutes of fiddling before the rust cracked and the hatch pushed up with a groan.

I was immediately assaulted by the hot rain and violent wind. Eyes closed, I climbed up by my sense of touch alone and found myself on the flat concrete roof of the prison. Ahead of me, on the roof was a long lip of concrete that I could use as cover, and beyond that, the courtyard. The walls surrounding it were even with the roof, and I could easily charge across the wall to engage the guards up close. If I was an idiot that is.

I concentrated, and in my mind's eye, the storm was gone. My bow appeared in my right hand, the graphite rough under my fingers, as real as any other thing in this world. A series of hard thwacks followed as ten swords impaled the concrete in a circle around me. I felt the strain of the projections all at once. This many was pushing it already, normally I could only summon five or six, and all at the same time to boot. Still, I couldn't quit now.

I breathed in deeply as sweat and rain both poured down my face, and ripped a sword from the ground. I forced prana into it and immediately fired, aiming at one of the two guard towers that made up opposite corners of the courtyard. Before the first had even hit, I had primed and fired the second one. They both struck the towers about 3/4ths up their height and exploded in a flash that held back the rain for what seemed like ten seconds. Shards of concrete were launched in all directions as the towers collapsed. The guards at the base were crushed, while the others fled in blind terror, trying to escape the falling rubble.

This was no time for sympathy. I continued to draw and fire swords at the walls, and explosion after explosion lit up the night until there was as much smoke in the air as rain. I sighed and let my bow and the last remaining sword dematerialize. There was not a single soul moving in the yard. I had killed everything. As I stumbled back to the hatch, I realized that I had never once thought that particular phrase before. "I had killed everything". That idea was so alien to me I nearly vomited when I realized how many lives I had just ended. Even if they were part of the rot I was amputating, their deaths were due to my weakness, and no excuse could make up for it.

I reached the ladder as the muscle pain hit me. Every single fiber in my limbs was screaming for a quick death, and it took all of my focus to just go down the ladder. As I passed through the lower hatch, my leg slipped, and I fell to the floor with a yelp. Next thing I knew, the girl was helping me up.

"Thanks," I muttered as I rolled my shoulders, trying to get rid of the pain.

"What did you do out there?" she asked with disbelief written on her face. "There was explosion after explosion."

"It's better if you didn't know," I said, trying to make her feel at ease with a smile. "What's your name?"

"Rosa," she said.

"Shirou," I replied. "A pleasure to meet you."

She smiled and then the two of us walked back into the administrative area, rejoining the others. Seeing my tired stagger, the male doctor lent me his shoulder and helped me sit down on a desk.

"They're all gone," I said, wiping sweat from my face. It was still pouring down my face, like I had just run a marathon.

"We heard," said the older woman. "You've got some strange tricks up your sleeve, I think."

"You have no idea," I replied with a short laugh. Then, to change the subject I said, "Let's get out of here, it's quite a walk."

"There is a jeep outside," said Rosa. "It's for the commandant, but I think you killed him."

She pointed to a corpse lying against the wall. It was the man who killed Fernando, and only now did I notice the fact that his uniform was a bit more ornate than the other prisoners. Though now soaked with blood, the gold trim and fineries were unmistakable. Rosa immediately ran over and began going through his pockets. She pulled out everything he had, and then smiled as he jingled a ring of keys.

"I can drive," she said with a grin. "My papa taught me before I left for school."

"That makes one of us," I said. Despite my profession as a world travelling adventurer, I was a horrible driver, but no one really needed to know how bad I really was.

The five of us quickly made our way out and through the courtyard, using the keys on the ring to open the outer gate. Despite the rain, we found the jeep and piled in. I jumped in the back with the male doctor and the other prisoner, while Rosa and the other woman climbed into the front. Everybody was soaked to the bone now, and we nearly cheered when the car rumbled to life.

"Hang on," said Rosa as she shifted the car in gear. "This road is unpaved."

The jeep lurched forward, jolting us all. Rosa gained control of the metal beast after a moment, and soon we were bumping our way down the mountain road, desperately trying to fend off the heavy rain. I reached into my bag and pulled out the shroud, taking care that no rain got on the photo in the bag.

"This coat is great against the weather," I said as I handed it to the prisoner next to me. When he didn't understand, Rosa quickly translated for me. Then the man smiled and wrapped the coat around himself with a smile.

Despite the pounding rain, I smiled as well. Even though I killed so many people, and failed to save so many more, that one man's smile brought warmth to me unlike any furnace. I knew though that that warmth was fleeting. The pain of those deaths would hit me soon enough. But as the lights of the village could be seen in the distance, I took refuge in that one smile. As long as I could save one person, I knew I could save ten. As long as I could see that one smile, I could save myself.


	8. Chapter 7

School started normally enough. It was a welcome break from what even a Magus would call a hectic weekend. With the War going on, I had completely forgotten about my so-called normal life, and was actually shocked when Sakura woke me up in the morning morning. She had seemed distant, and breakfast had passed quietly before her and Fuji-nee left to go to Archery practice. It frustrated me how much I wanted to go with them, even if I couldn't single out a reason why.

Saber had insisted on coming to school with me, but relented after a long argument. There was no way I was going to let her come to school with me, but I'm here under conditions. Now I was obligated to use a command spell if something goes wrong, and I intended to. I knew full well that I couldn't fight against a Servant. Even Masters could probably deal with me. As much as I didn't like to risk Saber's life, if I wanted to save people, I needed to be able to fight.

The bell rang to sound the end of class, and the beginning of lunch. With practiced efficiency, I stood and grabbed my lunchbox, immediately walking past the people who would no doubt demanded part of my homecooked meal. The student council room would be my best bet. Issei is sympathetic to my cause, and would certainly provide me refuge. Plus, I do work for the council on occasion, so there's no reason for me _not_ to be in there. If Kuzuki-sensei comes and asks, I'd just tell him that I was planning work. After all, there were always items in need of repair.

It was the perfect plan, and only failed due to outside interference. I opened the classroom door, ignoring the protests of the classmates trailing behind me. There was no way they would mooch off me today. I stepped into the half-empty hallway. Students of various grades were walking about now that the bell had rung. Few of them knew of my cooking reputation. I looked left and right for any hidden dangers. To my right, about halfway down the hall, Issei stood by the student council door. My partner in crime was waiting for me. I was practically in the clear already!

I turned towards him, lunchbox in hand, and was immediately accosted from behind. A small hand grabbed my uniform collar and pulled back hard, and in the distance I saw Issei grimace, but think twice about coming to help me.

I cried out, spitting out an unintelligible series of sounds as the hand pulled me back and around. Then I was face to face with Tohsaka Rin. Normally this would be a dream come true, but today was different. While Tohsaka Rin was the so called "Ms. Perfect" at Homurahara High School, today she wore a special face just for me. It was the face of the Tohsaka that I had come to know in the last few days.

"Emiya-kun," she said, her mouth thin, "we need to talk."

"Now?" I asked, but it was too late. He pulled on me and I instinctively followed her. I sighed; we were making a scene. I could hear people whispering as she dragged me through the hall, hand now wrapped around my arm. The girls were just gossiping like they do, but I despaired as I heard the other guys. I needed to stop Tohsaka before there were any more misunderstandings. At this rate, I'd be facing off with half of the male population of the school this afternoon. Seriously! I had treaded on sacred ground. I'd be just as angry if it was another guy.

"Tohsaka-" I began, only to be silenced by a glare. I resolved to explain it to the other guys later. She led me through the school, up the stairs, passing by confused upperclassmen, and finally out onto the roof.

"Alright," she said in triumph, "we're here."

I was starting to shiver from the exposure, even through my school jacket. The girls are lucky; their uniform allows that dark red overcoat that Tohsaka loves so much. Despite the fact that there's no snow on the ground, it's still cold in late February, and naturally we were the only people on the roof.

"Tohsaka, is there anywhere else we can go?" I asked, crossing my arms to hide the fact that I was cold. As a man, I could never show such weakness, especially not in front of a girl like Tohsaka. She'd never let me forget it.

She turned on me in an instant, leaning over with her hands on her hips. "What do you mean Emiya-kun?" she asked. "If we're going to discuss anything at all we have to go somewhere quiet."

"Yeah," I said with a sigh, "but you just dragged me past half of the student body. You made our lunch meeting seem even more suspicious."

"Your point?" she said. She was either oblivious or stubborn as hell.

I sighed again. "My point is that people could come eavesdrop on us because they think we're carrying on some illicit relationship."

She chuckled, "Maybe you want them to think that, right Emiya-kun?" As I thought, she wasn't fazed in the slightest when I brought up that possibility. She was too good at keeping that mask on. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't as good as her, and I abruptly looked away. My face was tinged with red, but I hoped that she would mistake it for the cold.

"Ah, looks like I got you," she said, not fooled at all. "That's enough for today I think."

She walked around the roof to a point where two sides were blocked by high walls of concrete. There, the walls would provide at least a little protection from the wind. She stared at me, as if asking if I was going to come, and then smoothed her skirt before sitting down.

I walked over and sat by her side, with my back to the wall. Then I opened my lunchbox. Even though it was just leftovers from the night before, my meals are still the most sought after treasure come lunchtime.

"Oh, that looks good!" she said. It was then that I noticed that she didn't have her own lunchbox with her.

"Did you forget your lunch?" I asked.

"No," she said, as if it was obvious. "I didn't bring one on purpose. I was planning to take some of yours."

I never expected her to be such a freeloader. "Alright," I said. "It's fine. I guess I owe you enough anyway."

Carefully, I split the lunch in two, making sure we each had equal portions. It was about five minutes after we began eating that she said anything else.

"So, about the War," she began. "Some of my familiars picked up some things."

I hummed with interest. "What exactly?"

She bit her lip, and then continued. "You may have seen it on the news this morning, but a whole area in a neighborhood near the forest was torn to pieces. The streets were wrecked and lamp posts were torn out of the ground entirely."

I turned to look at her. Her head was down, staring into her lap with an intense look on her face. "I didn't watch the news this morning," I admitted. "Wouldn't you think that word would get around?"

"No," she said immediately. "It would probably be passed off as an accident or something. Regular people are really good at making excuses for the unexplainable. It's a fact of life."

"But you think it was a battle between Servants?" I said. I didn't think it could be anything else.

"Yeah," she replied. "No clue who it was, but my familiars detected a massive amount of magical energy emanating from that area, so we can assume that whoever was fighting was going all out. If I had to guess, Berserker was definitely one of the combatants."

I thought about that Servant for a moment. Even Saber could barely hold her own against it. Could any other Servant hope to win against that monster? "Do you think he won?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know. The street they fought on was really cramped, and there wasn't much room for such a large fighter. Berserker may have been forced back."

Berserker forced back? I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "Could any Servant do that?" I asked.

She thought for a moment before responding. "Maybe Lancer or Rider. It would have to be someone faster, but with enough strength to land good blows. If I was Saber's Master, I think Saber could do it."

She let the implication stand, not that it wasn't completely obvious. I thought for a moment. If Berserker could, _could_, have been fought off by another Servant, then it would be in our interest to ally with them.

"Well, if Berserker-" I started.

"Berserker?" said a familiar voice. I nearly jumped to my feet. Mitsuzuri Ayako was standing in front of us, carrying her lunch box in front of her and looking at us with a puzzled expression. She must have come up to the roof while we were talking and overheard us.

"Mitsuzuri!" I said, quickly, trying to change the subject, "What brings you here?"

"What's this about Berserker?" she asked again. Like a bloodhound on a hunt, she wasn't letting the subject go.

I started a fake laugh, "Oh, I was just talking with Tohsaka about the manga Berserk. She asked me for recommendations."

That got Mitsuzuri started. She dropped to her knees in front of me with an excited expression on her face. "You like Berserk?! Sweet, Guts is a totalbadass!"

"Totally," I said with a short chuckle. In reality, I've barely read Berserk. Shinji gave me a few copies once, talking about how it had what he called "a ton of cool gore and sex". After living through a nightmare, I wasn't really interested. It just came to mind all of a sudden when I was thinking up an excuse. "You don't seem like the manga reading type, Mitsuzuri."

She put on a fake frown and crossed her arms with exaggerated movement. "You insult me Emiya! I enjoy it enough."

"Forgive me," I said, following her routine. I looked at Tohsaka with one eye. She stared back with bewilderment on her face. Were we acting odd or something?

"Yeah yeah," said Mitsuzuri, "but we should totally hang out and read manga together sometime! Didn't you do that with your friends in middle school?"

"Yeah, definitely," I said, neglecting to say that my middle school years were filled with me desperately trying to learn magic from my dying Father. "We should do it some time."

Mitsuzuri coughed once and readjusted her sitting position, now sitting cross-legged in front of us. It was a compromising position for a girl with a skirt, even if it was knee length. She didn't seem to mind though. Of all the girls that I know, besides Fuji-nee maybe, I have never met a girl so unconscious of her femininity. While she never let herself look less than presentable, Mitsuzuri Ayako never seemed to acknowledge the fact that she was a really good looking girl. If I was bold, I might even call her beautiful. She was, really. I'm sane enough to acknowledge that, not that I dwell on it much. She rarely wore makeup, not that it would do much. She told me once that she considered a beautiful girl to be one that practices martial arts. By her own definition, she's first class, but she must have been making a joke at her own expense. She's a member of the Archery club, so naturally she's tough. Hell, she could probably beat half the school in an arm wrestling match. If she thought that made her undesirable, she was wro-

Why was I even thinking about this? Just because she sat strangely? Was I an idiot, a pervert? Both? What the hell, Shirou? She's Mitsuzuri Ayako, your (self proclaimed) bro, she may have a slender figure and a pretty face, but that doesn't mean you're just allowed to think things like that! I continued to mentally beat myself as I smiled and nodded at her. She's just a friend. Even if she wasn't, I'd have no excuse to think such things.

"Anyway Emiya," she said. "You have some explaining to do."

I swallowed, already knowing what was coming. Tohsaka was looking at us with puzzlement, but I'm sure she would understand soon enough. "Yes?" I said.

"First," she said, pointing into the air like a detective, "explain why you were with a foreign girl yesterday. There was blood on your shirt, did you do something stupid?"

"Well. . ." I started to think. Anything would be a good excuse.

"She was an old friend of my dad's," I said, hoping Mitsuzuri would buy it. "She came back to Japan after a long time, not knowing he had died. I was just showing her around town."

"The blood on your shirt?" she asked.

"A misunderstanding on your part, Mitsuzuri," I replied. "I had torn my uniform, that's true, but the blood was actually ketchup. I spilt it at a restaurant."

I looked at her impassively, hoping that she would take the bait. She nodded. "Very well," she said. "Tell me Emiya, how old was that girl?"

Huh? I stammered as I said, "W-well I'm not sure."

"She's good looking," continued Mitsuzuri with a nod. "If she's not too old for you, you should go for it."

I raised my hands to stop her, "Easy Mitsuzuri," I said, "It's embarrassing to say such a thing."

She laughed. "I'm just saying it would be good for you Emiya! Maybe you wouldn't be so tense if you went on a date every once in a while! Heck! You had lunch with Tohsaka today, maybe you should go out with her?"

"Oh?" said Tohsaka with an evil grin. "Maybe you should take Emiya-kun out. I'm sure you'd both enjoy it."

Mitsuzuri looked away suddenly. Was it bad that I hoped she was blushing? Fat chance of that. "I don't think so," she said, but then stopped herself and looked at me with wide eyes. "Sorry Emiya, it's not that you aren't cool or anything, it's that Tohsaka and I have a bet. I can't afford to go out half-cocked."

"A bet?" I said. What did that mean? I wondered.

"Ah, you wouldn't know about it, would you Emiya-kun?" said Tohsaka dismissively. "Mitsuzuri-san and I have a bet concerning which of us will get boyfriends first."

"Tohsaka, you shouldn't tell him," protested Mitsuzuri. "It would be bad for both of us."

"Why?" asked Tohsaka, "Were you really planning on going after him? He's way too dense to catch any hints, you'd have to tell him straight out. You are the kind of girl who'd ask a guy out though."

"I'm sitting right here," I said, waving at the two girls. "I can hear every word your saying."

It was amazing. For all the skill Mitsuzuri had at manipulating words, she was an amateur compared to Tohsaka. I had a feeling that Tohsaka had a power limited like you see in shonen manga. With the limiter on, she and Mitsuzuri were about equal, but when Tohsaka went all out, Mitsuzuri didn't have a chance. She sat in front of us, trying to hide the red that was slowly taking over her face. To be perfectly honest, I was glad to see her on the back foot like this; it just proved that her outer shell could be broken down.

"Emiya, forget everything she just said!" said Mitsuzuri hurriedly. "She's making fun of both of us!"

"You really are planning on going after Emiya-kun, aren't you?" teased Tohsaka.

"No!" Mitsuzuri said. "Sorry Emiya, you're cool, and you'll make an awesome husband to somebody, but that's not what this is about. It was supposed to be a secret bet! If word gets out, what's the point?"

"I get it," I said with a shake of the head, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Tohsaka was giggling as Mitsuzuri nodded, satisfied. Honestly, what was the outcome of the bet anyway? I considered asking, but decided against it. Knowing would be troublesome. In any case, it was easy to see why Mitsuzuri was eager to keep the contest secret. If word got out that Tohsaka and her were looking for boyfriends, Miss Perfect would have a lot more suitors. It was sad, but that's the way it was.

"Don't give up, Mitsuzuri," I said, "Don't think for a second that you can't beat Tohsaka."

"I never thought otherwise," said Mitsuzuri smugly. She crossed her arms and smiled at Tohsaka, anything but discouraged. "I'm going to get a boyfriend that will make Tohsaka quake with jealousy."

I expected some snarky reply from the girl at my side, but she was silent. The twin-tailed girl just smiled at the scene. Despite their bickering, I could tell that they were friends. This contest wouldn't ruin that relationship. In fact, I had the sneaking suspicion that it just improved it.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of afternoon classes. Tohsaka stood, brushing off the back of her skirt and looked down at me.

"I'll be in touch Emiya-kun," she said as she walked away. She didn't look back, even as she disappeared from view. When that girl has her mind set on something, even the most trivial thing in the world, she doesn't give anyone else a moment's thought. I sighed quietly and shook my head.

"What's the matter?" asked Mitsuzuri. She was getting ready to leave as well, but didn't want to leave me alone.

"Nothing," I said as I climbed to my feet. "That girl is just hard to believe sometimes."

I reached a hand down to her and after a moment she accepted with her right, pulling down on me as she climbed to her feet. It was tough with calluses, but still slender and cool to the touch. We held our grips what seemed like a minute, but was probably not more than ten seconds. We broke apart simultaneously, coughing discreetly as we avoided looking each other in the eyes. The atmosphere had become very awkward all of a sudden, and I didn't want to be the one to break the silence.

"Well," she began. "When do you want me to come over?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, legitimately confused.

She shook her head. "Moron, Berserk! Weren't we going to read manga together? Don't tell me you forgot already!"

"Oh yeah!" I said, backpedaling. "Sure. Let's do it sometime this week."

Oh damn it, I forgot. There's a War going on. But before I could correct myself, Mitsuzuri said, "Sounds good. I'll bring my stuff to school and we can walk home together afterwards!"

"Y-yeah," I replied weakly. "My house I assume?"

"Of course," she said with a smile. "There's no way I'm going to pass up a chance to have you cook for me."

"You're so direct about it," I said. "That's fine. I'm happy to do it."

"Ok, I'll look forward to it! How about the day after tomorrow?"

"Wednesday?" I wondered. I didn't know how long the Holy Grail War was going to last. It was probably better to get it over with sooner. If I died, she'd probably get mad at me. "Yeah, I guess that's fine."

"Cool," she said as she ran towards the stairway, "I'll see you around Emiya!"

I didn't follower her immediately, even though I knew that if I didn't I'd be late for class. Something held me back, and even the threat of Fuji-nee's wrath wouldn't force my feet into motion. It had become all too apparent to me in the last fifteen minutes. It was something that I had never expected or even thought was possible.

I had become aware of Mitsuzuri Ayako. I'm not sure if I became aware of her in the last ten minutes, or if I just realized it right now, but when she had turned away from me, it wasn't as a friend or a classmate. I saw her as a woman. I'm sure that the very thought of me seeing her that way would make her angry, but that was that, and there was nothing I could do about it.

It wasn't love, I knew that at least. It was more of a lingering affection for her. She was a really good friend, and maybe until now I didn't realize how little I knew that. These past few days the two of us had spent more time together than in all the last two years.

Whether it was love or not didn't matter though. Mitsuzuri Ayako was not involved in the Holy Grail War. That was what mattered If I had my way, she would remain blissfully ignorant of the whole thing. She's too good a person to be caught up in this horrible thing. She had smiled at me a few minutes ago, looking forward to coming over to my house. I knew at that moment that my goal had changed ever so slightly. She should be allowed to keep that smile. No noncombatant should become involved, certainly not like ten years ago. If I was already committed to preventing another catastrophe like that, my resolve had doubled.

When I had thought of the people that I could protect last night, Issei and Sakura had been the ones that had come to mind. They were the faces of the normal people hiding behind the curtain of secrecy that covered this Holy Grail War. Now it was Mitsuzuri. When I closed my eyes, it was her face that I saw. If I could keep her safe, away from the violence and bloodshed that this Holy Grail War was sure to bring, I would be one step closer to my goal. I would never let something like that fire happen again. The idea that Mitsuzuri or anyone else could suffer like I did made my blood boil.

I exhaled deeply and looked up at the sky. Rain clouds were beginning to form, and I realized that this might have been the last moment of peace I would have in this life. I closed my eyes as a few drops of water hit my face and her face came to mind, unbidden. It troubled me, but in a way I was ok with that. Putting a face to the people I wanted to protect gave me focus. I would never let anything hurt that smile.

Never.

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, this was a slice of life chapter. I do apologize for not wanting to write tons and tons of violence in this story. Also, I've been trying to focus a lot more on the romance aspect. Poor Shirou's in denial. I always felt that the romance in the VN itself was fairly lackluster. While the conclusions were good, I never enjoyed the buildup, mainly because of scenes that involved deus sex machina if you'll forgive the horrible pun. For those that care, my next task is to write the next chapter of Gilgamesh Tries his Hand at. If you have anything to say, good bad or neutral, I'd be happy to read it. Until next time.


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